


i'll be home with you

by maidenstage



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Development, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Feelings Realization, Fellswap Papyrus (Undertale) - Freeform, Fellswap Sans (Undertale) - Freeform, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Lets play a game called 'How many tropes can I possibly fit in this fic?', M/M, Multi, Multiverse, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polyamory, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Reader Has A Name, Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader-Insert, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Swapfell Papyrus (Undertale), Swapfell Sans (Undertale), Tags May Change, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Sans (Undertale), Underswap Papyrus (Undertale), Underswap Sans (Undertale), Unresolved Sexual Tension, reader is female, strangers to acquaintances to friends, the answer may surprise you!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:36:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 92,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27973173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maidenstage/pseuds/maidenstage
Summary: If there was one thing that the you of your childhood and the you of your young adult life had in common, is that you had an unfailing belief in the unbelievable.Most people wouldn't have bothered to look into the truth of the Legend of Mount Ebott, but your grandmother's stories told a tale that seemed believable.And it turned out she was right.But unlike most tales, the journey for that "Happy" ending will take a little bit of patience, kindness, perseverance, a lot of bravery, integrity, a fierce sense of justice...and maybe a bit of determination, to make it happen. But that's okay, because with the friends-- and enemies-- you make, you're gonna need it.After all, most stories with magic and monsters turned out well in the end....right?-Weekly to Bi-weekly updates! Thank you all so much for your support! :3
Relationships: Everyone & Reader, Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader, Sans (Undertale)/Reader
Comments: 58
Kudos: 81





	1. Prologue.

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [On Top of the Bone Pile](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17411669) by [Lyrjok](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyrjok/pseuds/Lyrjok). 
  * Inspired by [(The Last of the) Real Ones](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20645354) by [Vesperchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vesperchan/pseuds/Vesperchan). 



> Uh......hi? (>‿◠)✌ Happy Yule everyone!
> 
> So. I have been on an Undertale fic reading bender and it has inspired me to write again. My previous fics that I had (at one point or another) were written in a different fandom, I have lost inspiration and may abandon it or rewrite in the future. Now, since the quarantine has affected well over the entire planet, needless to say writing hasn't exactly been a priority for me. It's been a rough one lads. But, I've had a chance to play the game and really get into the Undertale fandom and I'm inspired by how creative and accepting that the community is.
> 
> I'm hoping to put my drop in the bucket and contribute with my own self-indulgent Reader x Sans/Papyrus fic of my own...though I guess technically it would be more like a self-insert? I'm still gonna keep the Reader a blank canvas, but depending on how the story goes it may change.
> 
> Also, I forgot how incredibly hard to come up with a clever title for a fic, but I guess if I hate it I can always change it right? :D
> 
> Anyhoo! Please enjoy my first ever Undertale fanfic (ɔ◔︣‿◔︣)ɔ ❤
> 
> Please be aware that this chapter has slight implied mentions of emotional abuse in the first few paragraphs. Please take care of yourselves and tread cautiously if you read.
> 
> Otherwise, please enjoy your read!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're excited to see your grandmother and can't wait to spend time with her.

_“Stop clinging on your grandmother, you’re being a bother.”_

_Your mother’s tone made you flinch, trepidation filling you as her sharp words sliced through you, like the leftover sting of a whip. You weren’t sure what you did to make her so angry, but you tried to make it right by obeying. Even if you did not understand, it was better to not ask questions. There was a hidden consequence for you if you chose to test your mother’s patience, and the threat of cutting your visit short with your grandmother was very real to your mind._

_(You knew she would do far worse for so little.)_

_You slowly released the bundled fabric of your grandmother’s skirt, your tight fist unclenching with a reluctant effort. Everything in you wanted to hold on and cling close to the towering figure beside you, but you obeyed. You then took a small step away, your head ducked low, your eyes fixed to the ground while your shoulders hunched close to your ears. As if awaiting the next strike._

_‘It’s not fair.’ You thought, an emotion bubbling inside that toiled at the blatant injustice done to you. Why was your mother so **mean** about how you greeted your grandmother? You couldn’t help being excited! (You would reflect later, many years in the future of how true this thought was- it wasn’t fair. But all you could do was endure.) You hardly ever got to visit her at all, so it was only natural that you were eager to express your joy in seeing your favorite person in the whole world. The times you did went only beyond the obligatory holiday celebration or birthday celebration. These surprise visits from your family, like now, were a rarity and something that your mother and father were adamant in keeping short._

_You didn’t know the details for the reason of your visit. Your older sisters were the loudest to complain about this impromptu visit, but you paid them little mind. You were busy thinking of all the fun things you would get to do with your grandmother. You daydreamed while staring out of the car window, watching the scenery pass by in a kaleidoscope of textures and colors that shaped the mountainous passage that led to the small town of Ebott. You grandmother said it was a sacred place, a place where many of the stories she told were all originated from. And soon, you would get to hear her tell those stories._

_(You did wonder if those stories were **just** that—only stories—but when you asked your grandmother, she only gave you a secret smile and said nothing. You still didn’t know the answer, but your curiosity and imagination compelled you to draw your own conclusions.)_

_All you cared about was being able to spend time with your grandmother. You were fortunate enough to spend a whole week with your grandmother—a whole week! You could hardly keep your excitement contained as you wriggled in your car seat, your patience held tight in your fists, curling to the fabric of your shorts so that you would remain focused. You caught your fathers’ gruff warning to behave and to get along with each other while your mother and him were gone._

_You would, of course you would! You wouldn’t risk having your visit cut short, so you were quick to agree to your father’s conditions, too excited to truly listen to_ what _those conditions were. You didn’t care. You would have agreed to an early bedtime **and** to skip dessert for a whole year if it meant you could be with your Nana._

 _You couldn’t seem to get out of your car seat fast enough when your father finally parked the car in front of your grandmother’s cottage. You were in a hurry to unlock your seatbelt, yanking the offending strap off your body before pulling the car handle to open the door. You scooted out of your seat and the moment your feet touched the ground you_ ran _up the cobbled pathway to the front door. You were shouting your grandmother’s namesake excitedly, grinning madly and without consequence to the family you left behind._

_The door opened and out stepped your grandmother; tall as the trees, her long limbs seemed it could reach up at the sky to touch the clouds. She spotted you first and you saw her age change with her smile, becoming younger the moment she saw you run up the pathway towards her. Without hesitation she crossed over the threshold of the entrance to her house and caught you as you crashed against her, the force of your excitement only making your grandmother sway just a bit before she rocked forward to keep her balance._

_“Nana!” You cried out happily, burying your face against the crook of her neck._

_You clung to her neck with the trust that your Nana would carry your weight. And you were right—your Nana’s arms wrapped easily around your small body, shifting you around so that she could carry you with one arm. You accommodated by clasping your legs to her hips while she called out a greeting to the rest of your family, who made the trek up the front door with visibly less enthusiasm than what you had displayed._

_When you were taking into her living room, you told your Nana quietly how much you missed her and how happy you were to see her again. You heard Nana chuckled before she pressed a kiss to your temple. “My little one,” she murmured, the affection and love in her tone making you wiggle in happiness. “It’s so good to see you again. I’ve missed ya somethin’ fierce sunshine—we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”_

_When she set you down, you had wanted to keep as close to your grandmother as possible. You didn’t ever want to be separate from her._

_It seemed that your desire to monopolize your grandmother’s attention was what set off your mother’s anger—you couldn’t have known what truly made your mother angry, but you feared the answer all the same._

_Your mother’s sharp eyes bore down on you and you struggled to keep still. You hated when she was like this. It was like she was a completely different person from your real mom, the one who cuddled and kissed you and told you stories. The ‘other’ mother only came when your grandmother was around, which didn’t make sense to you. Your grandmother was the best! She told you so many stories, epic tales of adventure and danger, about heroes and villains—and monsters and magic! You even got to drink chocolate milk and have a snack every time you spent the night before she told you your bedtime story._

_This ritual was something you did with your mother when you were a baby—so why did she get upset when you did the same thing with your grandmother? You just couldn’t understand why your mother was so mean to you whenever you were happy with your grandmother. It didn’t make any sense—why would your mother get mad when you told her about the fun things you did with your grandmother? It was a question that never received an answer. Eventually you learned that anything having to do with your grandmother was best kept to yourself. Your joy while spending time with her seemed to cause your mother’s mood to worsen, so you were careful about keeping things vague whenever she asked how your visits were. Your father seemed indifferent, but you knew he would agree with your mom if her mood wasn’t the best._

_Your sisters, thankfully, didn’t care much about how you spent your time at your grandmother’s house, so they couldn’t challenge your claim. You didn’t get along very well with your sisters much, but you were at least thankful that they were content to leave you alone to your own devices._

_From the corner of your eye, you saw your sisters standing to the side beside your parents. Renee, the oldest at seventeen, was staring at her phone with an open expression that you could only name as ‘boredom’. You guessed that she was talking with her friends and saying mean things about how she was ‘suffering at your grandma’s house with no cell service’. What a drama queen._

_Megan was only a year younger than Renee and seemed to only care about sports. All she ever wanted to do was go play some game with her friends. You admired Megan’s active routine, but you couldn’t keep up with her energy level. Any time you tried, Megan would get frustrated and leave you behind, which got her in trouble—and you became the target of her ire._

_Both your sisters held varying degrees of disinterest as they waited for your mother to finish scolding you. You could handle your mother at least. Your father however…_

_“What did I_ just _tell you in the car? Did you even **listen** to a **word** I said?”_

 _You couldn’t defend yourself with the truth: that you had heard him, but the words didn’t penetrate your mind. You vaguely recalled agreeing, but in your excitement your promise had all but flown from your mind. It had not been the first time you had tuned out something important that was being told to you, nor would it be the last. You couldn’t help it. It wasn’t something that you could control and you_ had _tried your hardest to pay attention, but your efforts were hardly noticed. You felt shame and ducked your head down lower, your chin pressing against your chest as your father’s angry tone._

 _“_ **Answer** _me--”_

_“Now that’s enough of that.”_

_A gentle, familiar hand reached out suddenly and cupped your shoulder, pulling you small body back, sheltering you against the tall, protective body of your grandmother. Her presence eased the tension in your shoulders. You felt her thumb sweep a gentle pattern that you knew was meant as a silent comfort. You knew that your grandmother was on your side. You immediately nuzzled your cheek against her hip but kept your hands to your sides. You wanted to cry, but you stubbornly kept your tears back with a harsh bite of your bottom lip._

_You wouldn’t cry. You **wouldn’t**._

_Crying would only make things worse._

_You didn’t hear what your grandmother said as she spoke to your mother and father, but you knew from her tone that she was displeased with them. You couldn’t hear how she quietly berated them for how they treated you, admonishing her daughter with only a cluck of her tongue and a gesture for them to leave for their destination. You were too focused on your breathing to listen in to their conversation. But you dared to pick your gaze up off the ground to face your mother and father; you noticed your parents hesitating, their gazes silent and indescribable while they faced your grandmother. You admired her for how calm and collected she was while facing your parents. You wished you were just as brave as her. You kept still even as you noticed your parents turn to your sister’s goodbye with affection._

_Your chest hurt when they left without a backward glance your way. You wished you knew what you did so wrong to make them so angry with you. Maybe if you knew, you could fix it. If they just gave you a chance, you could do it. If they just gave you a chance, you could **prove** to them that you could be good._

_When the front door slammed shut after your parent’s departure and your sisters left with their luggage (you assumed they were forced to bring your bag in after you—yet another thing you were sure to be blamed for) to settle into their rooms, you sniffed and buried your face against the fabric of your grandmother’s skirt. The hand that rested on your shoulder moved to rest atop your head, the fingers sliding through your hair and lightly caressing your scalp in a silent gesture of comfort. A low whine that you couldn’t suppress sprung deep from your throat, trickling past your lips as you voiced your hurt and sadness._

_“There there, little one…” Your Nana murmured. “It’s alright. Let it out.”_

_Your grandmother called out something else to your sisters that you didn’t hear. You didn’t hear anything beyond the sound of your sniffles while you struggled to calm your breathing, but you refused to pull away from your grandmother’s skirt. All you knew was that the pressure inside your chest needed to release before it hurt too much. Your parents always hated when you cried over the littlest things, but not your grandmother. Not your Nana. She seemed to understand you better than anyone and you liked to think it was because the both of you shared something special._

_As your cries slowed to whimpers, the pressure that gripped your chest eased, until eventually it faded away. You were quiet, taking slow, deep breaths— before a hiccup escaped without your permission. Your cheeks were flushed pink with embarrassment._

_“I’m sorry Nana…” You mumbled._

_You heard your Nana chuckle—and you wanted to hide in shame. “For what, little one?”_

For everything. _You thought._ For being a bother…for not being good enough…

 _“You’ve got nothin’ to apologize for little one.” Had you said your thoughts aloud? You cringed but she didn’t look like she knew what you were thinking. Her words halted the dark trail your thoughts were leading you, jerking you out of your miserable state to look up, wide-eyed and glassy at your grandmother. She stared straight at you, her gaze direct and piercing, leaving you with no doubt that she was watching you. Her attention on you made you fidget, a nervous habit that came paired with the urge to look away from her stare. As intense as her gaze was, you didn’t feel cowed or afraid. You felt like she was looking at you,_ in _you, in the place inside that no one else could possibly see._

 _You had to wonder if that place inside you was what the adults talked about—the_ **Soul** _._

 _“_ Never _apologize for cryin’.” She stated firmly. “Sometimes its best to cry when you’re said—or when you’re happy. Hell, you can cry whenever! But you shouldn’t keep it inside.” She leaned down, her wrinkled forehead touching the top of your crown, until you were almost nose to nose. You could see the colors in her eyes, the pretty brown flecked with green and gold reminded you of a stone you found in a creek long ago. The colors seemed to flicker, and you could almost_ feel _the love and affection that shone in their depths. Your chest did a funny thing, responding with a happy flutter._

_“You’re allowed to feel. You’re not weak for feeling, little one, it ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed of, okay?”_

_You nodded. Nana smiled and stood up slowly, retreating to her full height, giving your head another gentle pet before returning her hand back to her side. You immediately took hold of her hand, not wanting to lose contact. Another chuckle rumbled from Nana’s chest before she gave your tiny hand a gentle squeeze._

_“Now, how about we fix us somethin’ to eat eh?”_

* * *

_You were happily watching Nana slide your second grilled cheese sandwich on your plate when your sisters came into the kitchen._

_“Thanks Nana.” Renee breezed past you and snatched you plate from the counter._

_“Hey!” You cried out. That was_ your _grilled cheese and Renee knew it! From the smirk on her lips, you knew she did it on purpose to torment you. It was bad enough you had to fight at home to grab your own plate—your parents only half-heartly scolding the oldest for her intentional cruelty—but for her to do so now at your Nana’s cottage stung._

_“That’s mine!” You whined, a stomp of your foot signifying your displeasure at your sisters’ callousness._

_“Didn’t see your name on it.” Your sister commented in a blasé tone. You narrowed your gaze up at her, fuming with indignation. It wasn’t fair! Just because she was bigger and stronger and faster didn’t mean she had to—had to be so **mean**!_

_“Renee.” Nana’s voice cut through, her tone on the pulse of becoming icy, holding no room for argument. “You will give your sister back her plate and wait your turn.”_

_Renee’s mouth opened to protest, her expression twisting towards her grandmother to find Nana staring hard at her. The look made her oldest sister flinch—and you knew the look Nana had on her face was not a nice one. Having been properly cowed, Renee handed back your plate without a word and turned to stride to the table and flop on the old chairs._

_Megan, who was already sitting at the table while playing on her phone, looked up and snickered from her seat. Renee shot an annoyed look at her and made a hand gesture that you didn’t know meant, but you were pretty sure if Nana saw, she would get angry. You said nothing and simply waited for Nana to plate your sister’s food._

_When her task was finished, you trailed behind Nana as she walked to the table to give your sister’s their dishes before she sat at the head of the table. You sat to your Nana’s left, scooting your chair close before jumping on your seat. Properly settled, you beamed at Nana, who had been watching you with an amused expression._

_“Eat up kids. There’s seconds if y’all want any.”_

_You didn’t need to be told twice—you grabbed the first sandwich and bit at the corner of the bread, tasting the salt of the butter before the gooey tang of the cheese filled your mouth. The bite you took made your cheeks puff like a squirrel, but you didn’t care about how you looked. You just enjoyed the food your Nana made you. Somehow, it tasted so much better than what your mom made. You couldn’t quite place why that was, but you were too focused on munching the last corner of your first sandwich to properly ponder this._

_Nana merely looked on at her grandchildren, her expression content while she sipped at her mug of something that smelled floral. As you were chewing on the big bite you had taken from your second sandwich (you remembered to count how many times you chewed, which was about twenty), you listened to the conversation that carried on between your Nana and your sisters. Nana asked them about how school was and whether they were having fun; your sisters gave their answers, their expressions engaging and happy as they shared their life with their grandmother. You merely watched and listened, content to eat your food while your sisters talked with Nana. Even if your sisters were sometimes mean for no reason, you knew they enjoyed spending time with Nana and the attention she gave them._

_“—‘ve already enrolled for the Fall semester. Mom and Dad are on board, I just gotta pack everything and ship it out.”_

_“And I’ve already applied for several scholarships,” You head Megan add with a smug grin. “My coach put in a few recommendations, so I’ll probably attend a university with the best athletic program.”_

_“With your GPA, you better hope you get a scholarship.” Renee remarked dryly, ducking when Megan reached across the table to swat at her. Megan scowled but the ire wasn’t sincere—Megan knew Renee was proud of her. It was uncanny how your sisters riled and ripped at each other, yet they held a strong connection that seemed unshakable._

_You wished, more often than you cared to admit, that you had that same kind of connection with them._

_“I’m proud of you both.” Nana remarked, the pride in her voice distinguishable enough that your sisters sat up straight and practically glowed at her praise. “You both have worked hard to get where you are. I hope you both continue to succeed in whatever path you choose to take.”_

_“Thanks Nana.” Your sisters chimed in unison, before they laughed._

_You had swallowed the last of your sandwich when Nana turned to you with a smile. “Still hungry, little one?”_

_You shook your head. “Nope!” you said cheerily. “Thank you for the food Nana. It was the best grilled cheese ever!” Grinning wide, you gestured to your plate, as if to prove that your words were sincere. Nana’s soft laughter made you smile wider._

_“Well, how ‘bout that,” she remarked, the wonderment of her tone making her sound as if she had discovered something really interesting. “Then I guess you’ll be too full for—” she paused, the sudden mischievous look twinkling in her eyes made you perk up. “—dessert?” The punctuation of such a word, innocent and yet alluring made your mouth begin to salivate and your eyes grow wide._

_“Nuh-uh!” You said quickly—your Nana knew you had a vicious sweet tooth and often indulged you whenever possible. “I_ always _have room for dessert Nana!”_

 _“_ You _aren’t supposed to even be_ having _dessert.” Interjected Megan. “Mom and Dad told you that was one of the conditions for staying with Nana—” she continued, her eyes boring down on you while a slight curl of her mouth turned her expression into a sneer. “Remember?” You couldn’t place her tone, but it didn’t sound like she was being helpful—it was like she saw you at the peak of bliss and with just a few words, you were knocked down from the height._

_You hated when Megan was like this—spiteful and unnecessarily cruel._

_And just like that, your mood began to descend into subdued melancholy. Megan’s reminder was snide but pointed—you had forgotten that your parents had charged your sisters with orders to keep you from eating sweets. It was just another way to control you and you hated how your sisters easily fell into the role as your wardens. As if even at the one place you felt remotely comfortable and safe at, they had to ruin it with the reminder that they could easily take it away. Just one word to your parents and you could kiss this fleeting happiness goodbye._

_“I suppose that means that you two won’t be having dessert then?”_

_And then you remembered you weren’t alone._

_It dawned on you that that statement, however casually made, was said with a specific intent: it was as if Nana_ knew _that her sisters would tattle on their parents the moment you broke certain rules established. But your Nana could turn that against them—and your sisters didn’t even realize. Now their priorities were brought into question: should they continue to act as your watchdog, reporting anything and everything that happened during your visit with Nana and earn the approval your parents already easily gave? To what end?_

 _Or would they turn a blind eye for a chance of tasting Nana’s delicious and (arguably) famous confectionary creations? Not even your_ parents _could turn away from your Nana’s cooking, it was just that good!_

_“That’s a shame,” she continued, her tone conveying disappointment. “If your mother and father have laid out rules for y’all to follow during your stay, then I’ll respect ‘em. **But** … s’only fair that if your sister can’t have dessert, then y’all can’t have any—‘n I stand by that.” Nana then leaned back against her chair to take a long sip of her mug while she watched her sisters keenly, waiting to see what they would do._

_There was a moment of silence as Renee and Megan exchanged a look that only they understood. Then, with a sheepish and rightfully contrite expression, Renee answered._

_“Well…what mom and dad won’t know won’t hurt them…right?”_

_“Yeah—as long as you don’t get carried away squirt.” Megan added, shooting you a pointed look that warned you not to make them regret their decision. Your expression turned hopeful and you looked at Nana, your breath held while the old woman’s expression had morphed into a stony countenance. By your sisters change of heart, her features shifted, the wrinkles on her face smoothing out as she smiled cheerfully._

_“Hoohoohoo, well said my dears.” Nana hooted with laughter. “We’ll have dessert in a moment. I’m gonna sit outside for a smoke, so I expect y’all to clean up after yourselves, y’hear?”_

_“Yes Nana!” the girls all chimed, scrambling out of their seats in order to do her bidding. You hopped out of your seat and reached to grab your plate before you approached the sink. Your sisters were faster than you and had already left the kitchen, leaving their plates in the sink. You huffed an irritated breath, annoyance clear in your expression. Grumbling under your breath about how rude and inconsiderate your sisters were being, you set your plate on the counter next to the sink and went to grab the step stool so you could reach the faucet easily._

_You went through your task of cleaning the dishes, taking care to make sure there wasn’t any food residue before rinsing and setting the dishes on the drying rack beside the sink. You supposed the practice you had with doing dishes at home came in handy, since the plates weren’t all that dirty to begin with. But still! It didn’t mean that your sisters couldn’t_ at least _rinse off the crumbs and leave it on the rack to dry! Honestly!_

_You didn’t let it get you down however. As soon as you were finished, you dried your small hands on the nearby dish towel before you placed the step stool back from the place you found it. Task accomplished, you stood with your hands on your hips before you looked around in search of your Nana. Looking at the dining room table, you noted that the chairs were already pushed in—but you could have sworn they weren’t before. Maybe Nana pushed them in after you and your sisters left? But you noted that her mug was absent from the table as well._

_‘Nana said she was outside…’_

_Your feet knew their destination before you could finish your thought. You made your way across the wooden floor, passing beneath high and wide arches of the dining room before approaching a set of doors that lead to your favorite place: the sunroom. It was the second biggest room in her house, (aside from your grandmother’s room of course!) with a ceiling was covered in so many windows that it reminded you of an observatory. Inside the room held many potted plants—some hanging, some on wire racks, all in variety of sizes that held a capacity of many herbs and flowers, all in varying colors and sizes that you couldn’t hope to remember all of them yet. But you loved smelling and touching them—and some of them you knew the name of! And you even had a few favorites!_

_You approached the entrance to the sunroom and reached for the handle of the many-glass-and-square doors (your mom called them ‘french doors’ for some reason) and carefully turned the linear handle until it shifted down and the door shifted open. It was a little difficult to open for you, as independent as you liked to be, you had trouble keeping the door from shutting._

_Swiftly you ducked through just before the door shut behind you and you heard a ‘click’ that signaled that the door was sealed. The change in temperature brought your body’s response into a languid, relaxed state. The air within the sunroom wasn’t too hot, but just warm enough to sit and relax under. A perfect room to nap in, in your opinion—which, in actuality, was a fact since you’ve been caught napping in this room far too many times by Nana to count. Sometimes when you got too hot inside, your Nana would open one of the windows to the outside to let in fresh air, or she would open the door to the outside patio of her backyard that connected to the sunroom. It didn’t happen often, but it was nice anyways!_

_In the center of the sunroom, you spotted the designated sitting area with a half circle of couches and armchairs with side tables, all surrounding a glass coffee table that you saw your Nana’s mug sit on. You spotted your favorite napping area immediately, a long couch that your Nana called a ‘chaise’, where you watched your Nana curled up against the arm holding a long pipe that glowed, while whisps of grey-blue smoked curled around her in faint ribbons._

_Then and there, you were struck with sudden love and adoration as you silently stared at your beloved grandmother; as the afternoon sun made the slow descent down, bringing the colors of the sky to saturate with warm, bright hues of red, orange and gold, you were taken by just how beautiful she was. You couldn’t place where the feeling came from, nor could you properly articulate the rise of emotion that bubbled inside you. You just felt_ good _. You felt_ happy _and_ wonderful _and_ safe _and those feelings, at the core, were all because of this kind, beautiful woman whom you loved with all your heart and soul._

_You absently rubbed the center of your chest, smiling as the fluttering feeling inside responded to your thoughts. As if it acknowledged what it already knew: that you loved your Nana, more than words could ever express. You were pretty sure that when you grew up, this feeling would never change. And then you thought with a small hope, that you could make your Nana as proud of you as she was of your sisters. The very thought of disappointing your Nana made you freeze, icy uncertainty and doubt slowly sapping the happy feeling that glowed inside you._

_As if sensing the darkness inside you, your Nana suddenly shifted her distant gaze, drawing your eyes to hers and holding you there in their tender depths—and suddenly you felt loved and whole and safe. You smiled happily and quickly ran to your Nana’s side, all too eager to dive into the awaiting embrace that welcomed you. You inhaled, unbothered by the scent of the smoke that lingered and slowly sighed, the last lingering negativity that clouded your mind to fade._

_“—tell me what’s on your mind, little one.”_

_At first, you weren’t sure what she was saying, as the words sounded muffled while your head was buried against her bosom. You rubbed your cheek against her chest and let out a noise that you hoped signified that you weren’t ignoring her. She merely waiting, drawing her pipe to her lips to suck the sweet-smelling smoke in, seeming content to stay with you in her arms. Eventually she exhaled, and like a dragon of legend, smoke curled and bellowed from her nostrils and parted lips. When the last of the smoke faded, Nana quirked a questioning brow at you. You realized you still didn’t answer her, too busy watching the smoke to understand what it was she was asking._

_“What’re you thinkin’ about, little one?” She asked as she settled against the chaise, pulling you up so that you could lay on her chest comfortably. You happily snuggled closer before you spoke._

_“I was thinking about how much I love you.” Honesty compelled you to spill everything, leaving no secrets unturned or uncertainty fostered; the trust that you could tell Nana_ everything— _and that Nana would keep what you told her in confidence was only one of the many reasons why you loved spending time with her._ _You just…_ couldn’t help _feeling comfortable being vulnerable around her. The feeling of safety was something you chased after, something that you scarcely held close when you were at your parents house…_

_“I thought you were beautiful,” you continued, undaunted by the quiet that settled between them. You knew your grandmother was listening and you appreciated her for letting you talk even when you struggled to piece together what you were trying to say. “I thought…that you make me feel safe…a-and listened and understood---” You faltered, uncertain as your gaze flicked up to gauge your grandmother’s temperament. You were met with a patient expression, her pipe already set aside on the side table adjacent to the couch. Her arms flexed, squeezing you lightly in silent encouragement, which you happily took with a deep breath._

_“Nana…I love you…with all my heart and soul…I really do…I…I…”_

_You swallowed as you felt the emotion inside you swell, threatening to close around your throat. The gentle touch to your back calmed your anxieties down, allowing you to say the words that brought fresh terror to lance through your heart._

_“I-I don’t wanna d-disappoint you!” You gasped out, the words suddenly rushing out, hurrying to escape your body so that it would no longer torment you. “I w-wanna make y-you p-proud too! B-but I’m no good—I’m n-not good at a-anything! I-I h-have trouble listening a-and I g-get distracted e-easily a-and—”_

_You were crying again, you realized with shame, and you felt_ frustrated _—but your grandmother, your Nana only hummed and began to rub your back in the same slow, soothing pattern that calmed and assured you that you were safe. You wouldn’t be shunned or scolded for crying—this was your_ Nana _, and she told you it was okay to cry. When the tears abated, you sniffed and cleared your throat, your voice sounding husky and scratchy, but you were determined to say what was on your mind._

 _“I-I just… I wanna feel like they l-love me b-b-but instead t-they treat me like I-I’m a b-burden… I wish I d-didn’t feel like a burden…” You sucked in a breath and subsequentially hiccupped. “I… just w-want to feel like I m-_ mattered _to them…” You trailed off and pressed against Nana’s chest to silently weep. You cried and felt all the ugly feelings you had held on from your family’s criticisms and judgments shed, trailing down like the tears that stained your cheeks. Eventually you felt your Nana pat your back and felt yourself tilt upright, until you were sitting in the space of her lap. Her legs folded behind you, keeping you close so you wouldn’t fall off the couch._

_“Is that all?” Nana asked. The question sounded genuine and didn’t come from a place that was designed to mock your pain. She wanted to know if you had more to say, if there was something deeper inside that you had yet to unearth from your soul. You hesitated only a moment—and just like when you stared into the deep end of the pool, you took a breath—and plunge straight in._

_“I…” You swallowed. “I…want to…s-stay and…live with you…” You pushed on. “I-if that’s okay--- I-I mean, I know I’m being s-selfish for asking but I_ promise _I’ll be good—” You were panicking, scrambling to explain yourself so that there would be no misunderstandings. You didn’t want to seem_ needy _but—just the_ thought _of going back to_ that _place, back to her parent’s house made everything inside her recoil, as if the very thought of going back made her soul scream ‘no!!!’._

 _“Hmm…” you heard Nana hum thoughtfully before she canted her head and pressed her lips to your crown. “This is quite a predicament, little one. I’m not one to interfere when I’m not wanted…but it’s clear to me that you’re not happy—and_ that _is something I cannot abide by.”_

_You didn’t dare to hope, but it blossomed inside you, taking root and clinging to your soul as your grandmother’s words began to penetrate the panic that flooded your mind. Your eyes widened as you waited with bated breath for the proverbial curtain to fall; but nothing happened. The woman merely waited and held you while you processed her words. At last, you spoke, and you winced at the high pitch that laced your tone._

_“R-really?”_

_“Yep.”_

_You sputtered, dumbfounded by her simple answer. Nana cackled. “Come now little one, did you think I was blind to the treatment you’ve received from your parents?” She asked and it occurred to you only now that Nana was serious. You couldn’t help but stare in awe. Your parents always seemed so careful whenever your grandmother was nearby, always pleasant and kind. It was the complete opposite of how they would act when at home. But to know that Nana knew despite the deception and_ defended _you,_ protected _you—it warmed you and wrought new emotions to the surface. You were_ grateful _and so lucky to have your grandmother in your life, now more than ever._

 _Suddenly Nana’s lips firmed in a thin line. “Perhaps I’ve gone soft…I had hoped your mother would have realized the error of her ways…but it seems that waiting for her to do the right thing has caused you to endure_ unnecessary _suffering.” Nana’s nostrils flared as her eyes flashed, like fire that blazed white-hot, her gaze seared with the intensity of her anger. You trembled at the sight, even as you knew that your grandmother’s anger was not directed at you. You found yourself praying that you would never be on the receiving end of that gaze._

_As quick as the anger flared in Nana’s eyes, it began to dim as her eyes shifted back to your form—and just like that, your kind, silly, sweet Nana sat before you. “Looks like I’ll be havin’ a little chat with your parents when they come back.” She said, delivering the light-hearted statement with a wink and a laugh. “Can’t have my favorite grandbaby livin’ where you’re not happy or safe, now can we?”_

_You let out a squeak of happiness as you launched your body against your grandmother, your bodies falling back against the chaise as laughter erupted in a joyous chorus. You felt like you were flying! You felt like you could jump from the mountain and come back without a care in the world! Or that you had your birthday and Yule all wrapped in one! Plus cake_ and _candy!_

 _Your elated state eventually settled down to manageable levels to where your cheeks only_ slightly _hurt when you smiled. Nana looked pleased by your reaction. The two of you sat together on the chaise awhile, catching your breath before Nana sat up and stood—scooping you up in her arms. You yelped and clung to her neck, giggling as your grandmother let out a wicked cackle._

_“Alrightie—I think we’ve waited long enough to have our dessert, eh? We’ll call your sisters in the dining room, and maybe—” she leaned close, a conspirator whisper teasing close against her ear, causing her to shiver. “—we’ll have time for a story?”_

* * *

_Dessert was a delicious and rich dark chocolate cake. When your Nana brought the cake out of the fridge, she had called out to your sisters, who you could hear them run from their room, the thunder of their footsteps signaling their eagerness to rush to the kitchen for the treat Nana had promised them. When they arrived in the kitchen, they looked winded but excited. It reminded you of when dogs would perk their ears at the prospect of receiving a treat—or the anticipation of a stick thrown for them to play with. You giggled before taking your plate Nana handed you and made your way back over to your seat._

_Your sisters soon followed, taking their seats and settling in before they dug into their own slices. You watched as they ate their cake with twin expressions of bliss on their faces; the first bite taken leaving them silent as they chewed with a thoroughness that even you understood. Nana’s cooking was just something that just_ needed _to be savored. You found that when you ate Nana’s cooking, you didn’t feel the need to rush through your meal. You could simply sit and enjoy the act of eating, as well as the company you surrounded yourself with._

_“So...” Nana spoke at the head of the table, her cake already consumed, her mug refilled with the same floral scented drink that you later realized was tea. “Who wants to hear a story about the legend of Mount Ebott?”_

_You perked your head up as your eyes grew wide with excitement—you knew this story! It was one of your favorites that your Nana told that you never grew tired of listening too. You heard a sigh from down the table and your head followed the sound to the source where your sisters sat. They didn’t look as excited to hear this story as you were and told your Nana as much with disinterested but respectful dissent._

_“I’ll pass Nana, we’ve heard this story, like, a_ thousand _times. Besides, I’ve got some homework to catch up on.” Renee commented while standing up from her seat to leave. You watched as she took her plate and walk it over to the sink to clean it before setting it on the drying rack. Megan soon followed after her eldest sibling, offering some excuse about calling one of her friends on her phone before taking her plate to clean in the kitchen. You felt a pang of disappointment that your sisters didn’t want to listen to Nana’s story, but you couldn’t make them stay. You looked at Nana, finding her to be looking after them with a wry twist to her mouth—like she knew that they wouldn’t be interested in listening to her, but she didn’t stop them from leaving all the same. That made you determined to wipe that expression off her face—you would always be willing to listen to Nana’s stories!_

_“Well sunshine, I guess it’s just you and me, eh?”_

_You nodded. Your Nana seemed to brighten at your enthusiasm, which you took delight in the knowledge of. You still had a few bites left of your cake to finish, but you made sure to pay attention to the words that your grandmother told that wove the story to life._

_“Now…lets see if I remember…”_

_She reached for her mug of tea and took a slow sip, her eyes sliding shut for a moment, as if to gather the knowledge deep inside her before she could begin. Then, just as slowly, she set her mug back on the table and open her eyes._

_”Now…a long, long time ago, there were two races that ruled over the Earth. These races were humans—” Her mouth twitched into a smile. “—and monsters. The two races lived in peace, and for a time, the lives of each race knew no strife. The humans and monsters learned about one another, of their strengths and weaknesses, so that they could learn to coexist together without misunderstandings. As time continued, humans learned that monsters were not made like humans, and that they could use magic, for they were made of love, hope and compassion—and magic.” Her emphasis of this word made you giggle. “Yet as powerful as they were, they were much weaker compared to humans. It is said that the difference between humans and monsters all comes from the soul—that the soul is the very culmination of any being, whether human or monster alike. Monsters were more attuned to their souls, while humans have lost touch with their souls despite being made of physical matter."_

 _"Well…not all humans.” Nana added thoughtfully before continuing the story._

_“As humans learned about souls, they soon discovered that monsters could obtain unfathomable power from absorbing a single human soul. This frightened the humans, despite the assurances from the monsters they had no desire for such power. But the hearts of man are easily swayed. Fear crept inside their hearts, a fear that consumed them and poisoned the trust that was once kept sacred between man and monsters. They feared what the monsters would do and grew distrustful of them.”_

_Nana took a breath and her expression grew sad, and you held your breath. You knew the next part of the story, but somehow, it felt different. Important._

_“Then, one day, the humans attacked the monsters. War broke out between the two races. The war lasted for many years and threatened to end the existence of all monsters. Though the monsters were made of magic, they were too weak to fight against the humans. Countless monsters died, and few humans who fought against them perished in the war. Yet as the monsters fell, not a single human soul was taken to be absorbed. It was only the determination of the strongest monsters and the very few humans that wished to coexist together with them that kept them all from being destroyed. However, even with the help of their allies, the monsters stood no chance against the might of humanity. Eventually, the monsters were forced to surrender, leaving the humans victorious. The monsters were forced to flee to under Mount Ebott—”_

_“But what happened to the humans that fought with the monsters? The allies?” You interrupted, your curiosity nudging you to ask. You had always wondered this whenever your Nana told you this story, and you wanted to ask before you forgot again. Nana paused, seemingly lost in thought before she answered._

_“The monster allies that weren’t killed in battle were captured and punished.”_

_“What--But why?!” You were outraged at this injustice. You couldn’t wrap your mind around it--how could the humans that fought alongside the monsters be punished? They were the good guys as far as you were concerned! They were smart enough to know that monsters didn’t even_ want _to fight humans. After all, why would humans even_ fight _monsters when they were weak to begin with? It just was right. It wasn’t fair! “The monsters never even hurt the humans, but humans still attacked them first— and even after they helped humans, they got attacked for it! It’s not fair Nana!”_

_“No, it isn’t,” Nana agreed. “Even when the monsters could have used their magic to hurt the humans, they refused. They could have easily taken a human soul and absorbed it and ended the war in one fellow swoop. But I personally think that the monsters didn’t want to fight humans at all. I like to believe it is because they are made of love, hope, and compassion—such beings are hardly fit for fighting, mm?”_

_You bit your lip as you thought about your Nana’s words. If you were there, you would have yelled at the humans for being silly. The monsters didn’t do anything wrong and shared everything about monsters, and in return, they were attacked almost to the point of extinction. You probably shouldn’t have felt so strongly about this—after all, it was just a story your Nana told. But somehow, you couldn’t help but_ feel _for the monsters and the allies that were wronged by the fears of humanity._

_“Nana…what happened to the monsters?” You asked, waiting for her to finish the rest of the story._

_“After the monsters fled under Mount Ebott and the allies were taken prisoner, humans summoned seven of the best magicians to seal the monsters underground with a magic spell. This spell acts as a barrier between the monsters and humanity-- and can only be broken when the soul of man and monster become one.” Nana sighed. “The allies who tried to help the monsters were exiled. They and their families were forced to flee from their homes away from Mount Ebott to settle out into unknown territory. It is said that the allies were also magicians, but they were overwhelmed by the might and determination of humanity to try to help the monsters. Their failure to help their friends was perhaps the worst punishment they have ever endured.” Something glimmered in your Nana’s eyes. You were startled to find tears shimmering and you found yourself in tears too. You reached out and grasped your Nana’s hand and squeezed it comfortingly, startling her before she gave you a sad smile._

_“The allies endured,” she continued softly. “They lived on, never forgetting their friends and devoted their lives to remembering the knowledge and sacrifices the monsters have made to humanity. Their memory lived on with the allies. It was to be known from then on, that the magicians that fought alongside the monsters proclaimed themselves as Witches, so that they would not be mistaken as the mages that sealed the monsters underground. But this has also brought untold discrimination and suffering to the witches, for they were marked as traitors to their race. But many centuries have passed, the legend of the war has faded by time…”_

_Nana looked at you suddenly and gave your hand a firm squeeze. “Yet the Legends say that those who have climbed atop Mount Ebott have never returned. That they have found the entrance to the underground, where the monsters still dwell. It is possible that they’re still alive…waiting for the day when the barrier will break and that monsters will regain their freedom.”_

_Your grandmother shrugged her shoulders and released your hand to stretch, her joints giving a popping noise before she sighed. “Perhaps one day…” she said mysteriously. “Someone will climb the mountain and break the barrier…or they’ll decide to live with the monsters underground.” You snorted while Nana looked at you amused. “Well y’never know sunshine, maybe someone wants to have monsters for a family.”_

_“That’s fine.” You said, and in your innocence, you added. “I wouldn’t mind having a monster family. But you hafta be part of it, or I won’t allow it!”_

_“Oh?” The word was drawn out languidly, her tone of amusement turning positively mischievous. “That’s a mighty bold assumption y’got their little one. What makes you think I wouldn’t already be part of this imaginary family already, eh?”_

_“Oh. Well…good!” You nodded like you won an argument, which made your Nana cackle._

_“Glad we have that settled then.” She commented, amused by your cheek. You giggled and took the last bite of your cake and quickly chewed and swallowed before you took your plate to the kitchen sink to clean. You went about your task without a care, humming to yourself while you thought about the story your Nana told. You were too lost in your thoughts as you finished putting your plate on the drying rack to hear your Nana come in the kitchen. You were startled when she placed her rinsed out mug on the rack, but relaxed once she picked you up and settled you in her arms._

_“Well now little one, I think its bedtime.”_

_“Okay…” You didn’t feel tired, but you weren’t going to complain. You wrapped your arms around your Nana as she walked out of the kitchen, past the living room before turning, making her way up the stairs that lay near the front door. Reaching the top of the stairs, she walked past the rooms that your sisters stayed in before stopping at in front of the room that was yours._

_Nana opened the door to your room and stepped in. You saw your bag on the foot of the bed and apprehension hit you. The room was comfortable, but you didn’t want to part from your grandmother’s side just yet. You slowly unwound your arms so that your grandmother could set you on your feet. You approached the bed, reaching for your pajamas and a change of underwear when you heard her speak._

_“Now I know you’re a big girl an’ all that…but y’don’t gotta sleep in hear by yourself if ya don’t wanna. You can sleep in my bed with me tonight if y’wanna.” She said and you immediately felt gratitude. You relaxed your shoulders, which were bunched up with tension you hadn’t realized had happened. Yet all the same you looked at your Nana and nodded._

_“Then go ahead and change. Come find me when you’re done, okay?”_

_“Okay Nana.” You said. Nana left, shutting the door to your room to give you privacy before you quickly shed your shoes and clothes off, piling them messily in a basket near the door and leaving your shoes in front of your bed before you put on your pajamas. The evening was still warm enough for you to wear just a nightgown and underwear, so changing into your attire was quick. Once you were dressed for bed, you opened your door and peeked out, looking down the hall to make sure that your sister’s rooms were still closed. You waited for a beat, listening for anything that told you that they were still awake. When no sound could be heard, you stepped out of the hall and shut your door carefully, turning the knob so it wouldn’t make any noise before you walked the other end of the hall towards your grandmother’s room._

_You raised your fist to the door and as quietly as you could, gave the door a series of knocks that beat to a familiar tempo that the two of you made up as a game. You then opened the door, carefully opening it so the door wouldn’t squeak too loudly before you went inside, shutting the door and moving towards your grandmother’s bed._

_Nana’s bed was_ massive _—it looked big enough that six you-sized kids could fit in comfortably without falling off. It was a little difficult to crawl up the bed, so you had to hop up the end of the mattress on your Nana’s side so that you could hook your leg up to gain enough leverage to pull yourself up. You huffed and puffed until at last you hoisted your body up and plopped face-down on the bed. Your head popped up with a grin at your Nana, who watched you with a glee that was infectious._

_“I did it!” You crowed before you stopped and added softly, “Oops, sorry Nana.”_

_“That’s quite alright. I’m proud that you got up all by yourself.” Nana said while she watched you crawl-walk across the bed to the head where the pillows lay. You were quick to settle yourself by her side—and perhaps you felt a bit playful while you kicked your legs up from underneath the plush comforter that settled over you. But Nana merely chuckled and adjusted the blankets to your liking before she slid down against the headboard to lay down._

_You scooted closer, tucking your head against her shoulder with a sigh, feeling calm and contented in the quiet darkness that faded in from the absence of the sun’s light. Her hand rested briefly against the back of your head before you felt her lips press against your cheek._

_“Good night, little one.”_

_“G’night Nana…” You murmured, the drowsiness you had thought had abandoned you creeping in to settle over your mind. Your eyes grew heavier the more you tried to fight it, the edges of your vision turning darker, darker than the room until at last, you fell into slumber—_

–and then you woke up.


	2. Already Seen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You start your morning feeling strange.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy So(u)lstice & Holidays everyone!
> 
> Hopefully, everyone is doing well and having a safe holiday. This chapter has no warnings and is fairly plot-point driven but I hope it's an enjoyable read and gives you a window to the Reader as well as a set up to the timeline that takes place in the story. I'm taking my time planning and outlining each chapter and when the time comes to meet the Boys(tm), I hope it's worth the wait.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

You felt yourself rouse from your deep sleep, feeling an exhaustion so heavy that seeped into your bones. You only felt like this whenever your dreams were that immersive, and it seemed now was one of those dreams that held an effect that lingered—like you had been transported to another time.

Groggily you lifted your hand to rub against your face, wiping away the residue of sleep and drool, sifting through your lucid mind to ponder if you really _should_ bother with waking up. A brief glance at the clock told you it was only 6:48am; you _could_ technically sleep longer until your alarm went off…but there was no way you were going back to sleep. Not while you still had that dream still lingering in the recesses of your mind.

_Well. It wouldn’t exactly be a dream if it really happened, wouldn’t it?_

It was a little jarring for you to have to witness an event from your past repeat itself, even if it unfolded in front of you like you were watching an old home movie through a sepia-toned lens. You couldn’t say you were disturbed by your dream, but you weren’t exactly thrilled. You were…unsettled. Normally you hardly remembered dreaming, unless it was one of those weird, thought-wired dreams that were so outlandish you had to take a step back and ask yourself just what the hell that was.

The faint peace and contentment you felt just before you woke up was pleasant at least. You wouldn’t mind waking up to that feeling every day if you could (which coincidentally enough, you did). But now you had to get up.

You let a wry smile quirk the corner of your lips, a sigh escaping while you sat up from your bed, the plush comforter peeling off your body in an almost reluctant way that you could relate to. As much as you loved sleeping, you had a busy day today and the practical, annoyingly responsible part of you knew it was best to face the day head-on as prepared as you possibly could.

But that didn’t mean you had to _like_ getting up.

A groan fell past your lips as you swung your legs out to touch the cold wood floors, eliciting a small shiver from your body before you began your morning routine at a reluctant, sluggish pace. You rubbed your arms vigorously to jump-start the blood flow and bring warmth to your limbs. It was just a tad nippy in your room, which you liked, but your groggy mind didn’t necessarily appreciate it at the moment. Grumbling, you approached your closet and gathered the outfit you would wear, taking consideration for the weather with a brief glance at your phone’s weather application before deciding what style you were feeling today.

Form was important, but the function of your outfit held a lot to consider, for you at least; autumn was slowly creeping along, the chill in the air just on the cusp of becoming a frost, which meant dressing for colder weather and frankly, you looked forward to it! You could say you appreciated the reprieve from the sweltering heat from the spring and summer months in Ebott. Another thing to consider was what you were dressing for, which wasn’t hard.

Today was a Saturday and you were opening your grandmother’s metaphysical shop— which as it happened, was _also_ October 31st. Samhain, all hallows eve, Halloween—whatever the name, today was going to be a _busy_ day, and you would need to dress appropriately. You technically didn’t need to open until 9 o’clock, but you wanted at least an hour to set the store up before opening. That meant checking the stock in the back, opening the store’s system, and counting your drawer.

You dug through your drawers for the accompanying undergarments to go with your outfit: simple underwear (you ignored your bra—you were feeling _free spirited_ today—heh.) with cream lace leggings and your favorite pair of cartoon socks with crescent moons and a familiar black cat printed on the fabric. Yeah, you were bringing out the big guns. You were just that damn awesome. But what really completed this outfit for you was the black ripped skinny jeans and dark violet duster crop top.

 _Obviously_ you would be wearing a coat—you weren’t an idiot; you knew that the evenings could get quite chilly. So you did the sensible thing and dug through your closet until you found your favorite ‘cold weather’ coat that was once your pet craft project. It was a denim vest that had long, large pink cotton sleeves sewn in near the armpit, with an attached pink draw-string hoodie with cream-colored faux fur lining the edges and inside the hood. The sleeves ran just over your knuckles, at your preference. On the back of the vest held a large embroidering of the eighteenth major arcana card in the tarot spread: the moon. You remembered how long you spent laboring over the embroidering, agonizing over every stitch to make sure that it created the exact image that you wanted, with a unique texture that only simply thread could pull off. The image showed a silver moon with a purple crescent within, followed by two howling grey wolves and an iridescent stream of water stitched between that seemed to shimmer beneath the moonlight. It was a personal choice that seemed to fit you—the meaning behind the card portrayed deception and illusion, but also that there was more than met the eye.

You certainly could relate.

You cast a fond look at the jacket; this thing was truly your masterpiece: a bastardization of clashing colors and fabrics, it was an amalgamation of textures and seemed to encompass your personality as a whole—suffice to say, you were quite proud of your creation. You pulled it from the hanger with a smile and gathered the rest of your clothes before you opened your door and trudged down the hall to the bathroom.

You quickly set your clothes on top of the counter before turning on the water to the shower, allowing the water time to cycle before turning the knob all the way to the far left. As the bathroom slowly began to fill with steam, you took the time to brush your teeth before stripping your pajamas off. You would pick them up later once you got dressed...if you had time. You then unlocked your phone and selected your morning playlist before sliding behind the shower curtain.

You hissed as the hot water from the shower pelted your body, yet you stubbornly continued to stay under the spray. You faced away from the water and moaned as the searing heat thrummed against your back, beating away the tension until you felt like you could melt. This was bliss—nothing beats a nice hot shower. Your warm bed came in on a tie as far as the scale of comforts, but a hot shower deserved to stand alone as the highest form of luxury you enjoyed. As much as you wished you could stay under the water, you knew that eventually, you would run out of hot water.

When the water began to slowly decrease in temperature, you quickly completed your bathing ritual and turned the shower off. You were thorough with drying your body, wrapped your hair up in a turban to soak the remaining water before stepping out of the shower to change. After you were dressed, you tied the sleeves around your hips before unwrapping the towel from your head to shake your head, fluffing your hair in a wet, wiry mass before hanging your towel on the rack to dry.

Your hair felt dewy to the touch. It wouldn’t take long to air dry, so you skipped blow drying your hair to apply your make up. You hummed along to a song that held a catchy hook, the 90’s pop tune making your body bop and sway as you lined your eyes with dark eyeliner. You debated whether you should go for a gothic look, but a brief glance at your phone made your decision for you. The clock read 7:38 am—yikes, you would have to settle for a quick grab for breakfast while you made coffee. Looks like foundation, eyeliner, and mascara were all you had time for. You would just have to grab some lip gloss and apply some on your lips later.

You exited the bathroom, making a quick beeline to your room to grab your boots before shoving your feet inside and quickly tying the laces before you dashed out of your room. You ran down the stairs, catching the railing at the end to swing your body around towards the hallway, half-walking half-running towards the kitchen to start your coffee machine. You thanked yesterday-you for having the forethought to clean the coffee basket and scoop the appropriate number of grounds and prefilled water in the tank. All present-you had to do was press a button and wait. You checked your phone at again—7:45am. You weren’t running late _yet_ , but you had to hustle. You opened the fridge and dug for your flavored creamer (sweet cream, your favorite), setting it on the counter while you hunted for an insulated coffee mug.

Finding one that would hold a decent amount of coffee, you took the lid off and filled it with cream, about a quarter of the way before you put the creamer back in the fridge. Almost as an afterthought, you opened a cupboard to grab two breakfast bars before shoving them clumsily in your jacket’s pocket around your hips. The coffee machine sputtered the last few drops of coffee, which allowed you to quickly fill your mug. You were careful not to spill any in your haste; as much as you were in a hurry, you knew rushing while handling hot liquid wasn’t the wisest course of action (you knew from personal experience, unfortunately).

Securing the lid, you could _finally_ head out. You grabbed your cup and quickly walked back down the hallway towards the front entrance to snag your keys from the little bowl on the console table next to the front door. You shouted a goodbye over your shoulder as a habit—no one was in the house, but you felt better about this habit. It was better to announce out loud that you were leaving than not. You liked to think that the house appreciated the thought (even though you knew that the house wasn’t a sentient being, you still felt that it was alive—and that was all the more reason for you to continue with your ritual).

You then locked the front door and then ran down the front porch steps of your grandmother’s cottage before quickly jogging across the cobblestone pathway towards the driveway towards your car.

If you weren’t in such a hurry to open the store, you would have taken the time to admire how the morning light reflected off the dark red paint of your car. As muscle cars went, it was only ten years old and had a decent mileage (you guessed—you weren’t exactly fluent in car-speak, all you knew was to change the oil every once in a while and fill it up with gas when needed), but what mattered was that it got you to where you needed to go. And right now, you needed to _go_.

You opened the door and quickly shoved yourself in the driver’s side, briefly situating yourself in your seat before slamming the door shut and shoving the keys into the ignition slot. You turned the key, the engine jumping to life with a thunderous roar before it slowly settled to a loving purr. You then plugged your phone in its charge cord, selecting a song before you backed out of the cottage driveway and set towards the long dirt road towards the main highway.

The forest passed by you in a blur, the sunlight casting hues of gold and red that would have made a painter envious to capture, a perfect aesthetic of autumn if you could properly describe the scenery. It was a shame that you couldn’t enjoy the view, but you knew that it wouldn’t leave any time soon. You would have plenty of time to enjoy it after work. Especially since your grandmother was coming home today.

At the end of the driveway you stopped, checking the highway of any cars that passed down the road before you made your turn, your foot slowly pressing against the gas pedal until the speedometer inched towards the appropriate speed limit. You _might_ have pressed a little hard on the pedal, accelerating about five or ten miles over the speed limit, but you were confident that you could make it into town before you got caught. It would cut your drive time to about ten minutes, assuming you could avoid the coming traffic lights the closer you got to Ebott. A quick glance at your dashboard clock told you it was 7:50am— you had just enough time it seemed.

As you drove further away from the cottage and the surrounding lands that your grandmother owned, morning had begun to show its true colors. The sun had crested the top of Mount Ebott, casting a slight glare in your rear-view mirror that you flinched away from. The glare moved away as you wound down the bend of the mountains pass towards the small town that was at the epicenter of most of your childhood. You couldn’t help but be awed at the sprawling picturesque landscape that approached your eye. The buildings soon began to grow closer the faster you drove into the main road leading towards the town. There were few modern buildings that touched this place, the architecture still trapped in its 1900s aesthetic as if kept in a small pocket of the past that wasn’t quite ready to make the leap to the twenty-first century.

You had always loved this town as a child, and the sentiment had never left you as you grew older. You couldn’t imagine ever leaving this place, abandoning it for the bustle and rapid-dash environment that a true city held. The Town of Ebott with its sprawling, vast ecosystem that ranged from its enormous forests that surrounded all around the mountain to the further reaches of the coastline where Ebott’s quaint beaches drew in cold water from up north in the summer and even colder water in winter.

There was a part of you that did long for the convenience of some modern accommodations; being such a small town, Ebott lacked most high-end fast-food chains or having a hospital or its own mall. The closest shopping area you had to go to was around twenty miles outside of town. Ebott had a local clinic thankfully, but for anything major or life-threatening one would find themselves airlifted to the nearest hospital. It was funny how this didn’t bother you so much as a kid than it did now, but you suppose that kid-you had other priorities on your mind.

Like dealing with the fall out of your grandmother taking custody of you.

Those days…were a blur to you. You remembered your dream and couldn’t help feeling a mixture of emotions: pride, for having the courage to reach out to your grandmother to pull you out of your abusive situation. Envy was an odd element, but you suppose that had to do with present-you. You missed the innocence of your youth and the loose tethers of responsibility that had not yet tightened into their confining grasp.

Ah well. It was inevitable to long to go back and relive the past again, where things were so much simpler.

It was difficult to recall what had happened after your parents had returned to take your sisters away. You knew only of the promise your grandmother gave you and the fire in her eyes that spoke to you, that took ahold of you like you were the center of her world that she would defend until her last breath.

An echo from your dream burst forth from your soul, the child-like request to leave behind your family to live with her resonated faintly inside you, triggering a sharp intake of breath. The feeling of something stirring inside you shifted-- you quietly cut off that shift, telling yourself that it _wasn’t_ like that anymore. You were safe. You never had to go back to _them_ ever again. The courts and your grandmother made _sure_ that your rights were exercised to the fullest extent granted by the law. It wasn’t an unusual case for a grandparent to assume the role of a guardian to their children’s offspring. You supposed with the… _evidence_ presented to the judge; you imagine you had an easier time convincing them that you were in better care under your grandmother’s charge than your parents.

Life for you was a thousand times better with your grandmother. A part of you mourned the loss of your parents and siblings, their presence made scarce the moment custody had been handed to your Nana. Your grief would have made you inconsolable, but you held on while your grandmother encouraged you and gave you the space you needed to process what you were feeling. She made you feel value in yourself and allowed you autonomy over your body and the choices you made concerning your hopes and dreams.

If you had a chance to have a do-over of your life, you knew that your days growing up alongside your grandmother would never be traded for anything.

You were heading into the heart of the town now. You had the foresight to ease your foot off the gas pedal as you entered to Old Quarter of Ebott. The town seemed to have a head start with preparing for the festivities. You smiled as you saw most of the townsfolk out and about helping with the decorations; pumpkins, bales of hay, scarecrows, and a plethora of other commonly associated fall decorations were laid out hither and thither outside shops, businesses—you even saw a banner hung outside the Town Hall:

‘Welcome to Ebott’s Annual Fall Festival!’

A quiet laugh escaped your mouth as you slid your car to a steady crawl, turning into your designated parking spot around the back of your store. The face of your grandmother’s shop was modeled after a Victorian-style house that she had bought and renovated at her leisure until it became the town’s unofficial tourist attraction known for its…eccentricities. After exiting your car and locking it, you made your way towards the back entrance.

By that, your grandmother’s store was basically every hippie and new-agers go-to shop for their magical and spiritual needs. There was an emphasis on _magic_ there, but it was nothing at all like what you grew up with. What you and your grandmother sold were trinkets, bobbles, and the like that you often saw pinned on a pinterest ‘witches’ aesthetic board. In fact, the adults in your age group _loved_ that kind of thing.

Now there was nothing wrong with that. You happened to be guilty of having a collection of crystals and other minerals you were gifted, found, or purchased from your grandmother’s shop. You admitted: you had a problem. (But that was something you would admit only to yourself, thank you.) You even owned a few tarot decks. But unlike the groupies of ‘witches’ that claimed they recently unlocked their third-eye after meditating under a waterfall and becoming vegan, you were a whole different animal entirely.

You wish you could say now that you were proud of your heritage. There wasn’t a child alive that didn’t wish that they could become a wizard, mage, or witch. It was the kind of fantasy found in childhood bedtime stories and Saturday morning cartoon shows—and once when you were younger, you wistfully wished that you had the kind of power, whether to help accommodate your every hardship or to pull back from a dangerous situation was kid-you’s guess.

Well. ‘Be careful what you wish for’ was a turn of phrase that certainly applied to your life, that’s for sure.

You remembered the story your Nana told you about the war between the humans and monsters; you thought about how the humans had betrayed their fellow monsters, of how they attacked them unprovoked and mercilessly because of an unfounded paranoia that dwelled in their hearts. Even when faced against a powerful enemy, who had likely hunted and killed their kin for simply being monsters, because they were _different_ , they never gave in and took a human soul for their own.

Anger and shame were two very distinct emotions you felt; your anger was fiery, furious, and volatile, yet you were passionate— _so_ utterly _determined_ to do something! You wanted to right the wrong that those humans had inflicted upon the monsters—you practically would have climbed up that mountain by yourself if your Nana hadn’t set you straight. And then came the shame: for your ineptitude and ignorance (you were young, so you couldn’t have known better) and perhaps even worse was that you, by association, were an indirect cause to their suffering. You, a human girl, were free to enjoy the simple pleasure of fresh air and to look up at the sky whenever you pleased.

The injustice of it all hurt you deeper than you had ever experienced before.

When you told Nana of your sudden introspection, you didn’t expect her to drop the biggest bombshell of your life one afternoon while helping her tend to the plants in the sunroom.

The stories that you had heard from when you could comprehend them as a child-- the very same that was told to your sisters and that was overheard by your parents, were _true_. You suppose looking back you could understand why your Nana had laughed at your shock-faced expression, but if you thought you were prepared for _that_ bit of truth to come out of her well—well ( _heh_.), you were wrong.

Imagine your _immense_ surprise when your Nana told you that you were a _direct descendent_ of the allies that fought alongside the monsters in the war. And not just regular ol’ humans—oh no, you were a direct descendent of the exiled _witches_.

At that point you thought your skull would burst with all of the knowledge that rushed through your head, like a cresting wave that gained speed and was set to swallow you whole. It was afterward when you finished grilling your Nana for more information ( _was a chance of breaking the barrier that still trapped the monsters underground? Had your family tried all these centuries to find a way to break the spell? Did your parents know? Did your sisters know? Were **they** witches?_) that your Nana quietly told you the last revelation, the last secret kept within your family.

 _ **You**_ were the last witch of your family’s generation.

The knowledge didn’t shock you—you were past the point of shock at this rate—but you felt a sudden solemn weight of responsibility settle over you slowly. You had mulled over this discovery while Nana waited patiently for you to process everything told to you. You were filled with mixed emotions again, but it was so hard to sort through them. So instead, you looked at your Nana and asked her the one question that lingered in your mind.

’Can I use magic?’

It was then and there that your life began to truly change. Right then and there, your Nana became your mentor, taking you under her wing in learning to tap into the magic that resonated deep inside your soul and helping you become more attuned to the very culmination of your being. From then on, you felt like you were suddenly seeing everything with new eyes, like a veil that once covered you was suddenly lifted, allowing you to see _everything_. It was a slow and arduous process to control your magic, mostly because you had other obligations in your life that presented as a fleeting but important distraction.

You took your lessons with your Nana far more seriously than you ever did with your education in school—much to your Nana’s bemusement. She didn’t seem to be in any rush for you to finish your training, preferring for you to enjoy your life in school and make friends than to memorize the different soul traits or their color correspondence. But you just weren’t interested in learning much about human history. As far as you were concerned, you wanted nothing to do with humans. Humanity as a whole was a hot mess, which considering you were a human yourself you could speak on the subject.

It was a bittersweet thing, knowing that what humanity painted ‘witches’ of the modern age as someone who was eccentric and lackadaisical in their religious and spiritual practice, while the reality for you was something much more than what words could describe. You _were_ thankful, in a way, that you could hide behind the false face of what the title of a Witch brought. It allowed you to practice your magic freely while hiding in plain sight of your oppressors, to a degree.

Scowled to yourself, you approached the front door while digging your hand through your pocket for the key to unlock the entrance when you felt a sudden sense of déjà vu. You shrugged your shoulders as the feeling quickly passed—it felt like a normal opening day to you, it just held a more festive atmosphere. With a lot of pumpkins and spice and all that.

Putting the feeling away in the back of your mind, you shrugged your shoulders before twisting the handle to the door of the back shop. A grandfather clock chimed further inside the store and you couldn’t help but grin.

8:00am. You were right on time.

* * *

The weird sense of déjà vu came back again.

It happened while you were helping a lovely older couple that your grandmother chatted with. They had come in to buy the homemade incense you and your grandmother crafted and were asking about your grandmother. You gave them all polite and cheerful responses before totaling their purchases on the register when the feeling crept back again.

Like before you simply shrugged and continued with your day, helping the curious that wandered into your grandmother’s shop. Whether drawn by the festivities going on outside or enticed by the wares you presented in the display window, you were busy for Halloween. You could handle it though. Nana trusted you and you made it a point of honor to ensure that you never broke that trust while she had left the store in your care.

A few folks stopped you to ask a few questions about the different properties of the crystals you had on display and what their corresponding magical properties held when you _felt_ it again. This time you _knew_ something was amiss—

Your phone suddenly went off with a loud shriek as the emergency alarm triggered several more alarms from the various phones that went off throughout the store. Varying expressions of surprise to mild annoyance to befuddlement were worn as everyone reached for their phones simultaneously to check the alert that went off. At the same instance, your phone went off again, only this time it was to a familiar ringtone of your Nana calling you.

Panic flooded you as you thought the worst happened: did her flight become delayed? Was there an accident? Please god, or _whatever_ , please be okay---

“Nana?” you answered breathlessly while attempting to sound calm and not on the verge of freaking out in the middle of the store.

“Little one,” the familiar, husky tone calling you by your childhood nickname did more to soothe your anxiety than all the chamomile you could ever hope to drink. “I take it you also got the same alert as well?”

“Uh—” Your Nana would forgive you for the lack of eloquence, but your mind almost blanked out while trying to calm your fluttering heart. You quickly checked your phone and glanced at the message displayed on your screen before your eyebrows drew together in a frown. “Yeah, I just checked. I guess they’re saying that Mount Ebott’s got some seismic activity going on, um and that they’re telling everyone that’s in town to be cautious.” You weren’t trying to be rude, but people were starting to get an ‘I can’t believe I have to _wait_ to be served’ look that you were familiar with. You weren’t in the mood to snarl at customers today and you didn’t want your mood ruined, but you also needed to know if your grandmother was safe.

To your grandmother’s credit, she merely chuckled.

“Yes, I suppose the little gadget did make all kinds of noise when I landed at the airport. But that’s not what I was really referring to.” You heard her pause as something shifted, the sound of rustling fabric faint to your hearing. You offered a smile as an apology and finished ringing up the order before you heard your grandmother speak again.

“Have you noticed anything strange today?”

Well that got your attention. Your grandmother never asked you the sort of open-ended question unless there was a reason and it usually pertained to your training. From the tone of her voice, you knew that this was a lesson for you. There wasn’t a right or wrong answer necessarily, but what your grandmother was looking for was a show of whether you have progressed in homing in on your soul’s awareness. You remembered the brush of _that_ feeling—the familiar sense of déjà vu that had occurred thrice in one day— and you bit your lip. You couldn’t very well discuss magic and souls in the middle of the store while customers milled about. This conversation was best discussed behind closed doors.

You knew what you had to do.

“Sorry folks—I’m closing up early!” You suddenly called out, feeling immensely glad all over again over how you had the power to just _do_ that. Guess it paid to be run your own store (technically your grandmother’s but it was as much your store as it was her’s at this point). You took in a slight sadistic delight in seeing the outraged faces of the self-entitled customers that you had pegged the second they walked in your store before offering a wane smile and a cheerful “Have a good day!”.

Hearing your grandmother’s cackle over the phone tipped the corner of your smile wider. While you quickly made the rounds around the shop, checking that nothing was out of place and arranged neatly before shutting the shop door and flipping the sign, you focused on the question your Nana asked.

“Yeah, I’ve been getting this… _feeling_ —like I’ve been repeating certain things throughout the day, but I would _know_ what would happen or what someone would say. Actually,” You recalled suddenly. “It’s only become a lot more frequent today but I’ve been feeling this intense sense of déjà vu for a while now.” You walked back to the front counter to cash out your drawer before walking to the back where your grandmother’s office stood. You liked this room for its style and quiet atmosphere, but also for its adjacent mini-fridge, along with a water cooler and coffee maker.

You quickly sat down behind the desk and began counting through the money while you listened to your grandmother finally speak.

“For how long?”

You muttered under your breath while you counted the rest of the change before you quickly wrote out the total. “Sorry Nana,” Distracted, you answered her question with a quick worry of your lip. “Um… almost about two months? Maybe? It didn’t feel like anything bad, so I didn’t think to mention it to you—should I have?” Now you were starting to feel anxious again.

“Hmm.”

You waited. By the tone of your grandmother’s voice, it was easy to tell she was considering your words carefully. As witches, you both were sensitive to the slightest disturbances that occurred in Ebott, _especially_ when it concerned the mountain where the barrier lay erect. But so far aside from the bout of déjà vu you experienced for the past several months, nothing truly odd happened. The only thing that stuck out that could fit your grandmother’s definition as ‘strange’ was the sudden seismic activity that occurred within the mountain. You learned in school that Mount Ebott was once an active volcano several thousand years ago, but it had become dormant for a few centuries (something that you were immensely glad about, for obvious reasons). You Nana later explained that their ancestors had assured the monsters that the mountain wouldn’t erupt and kill them when they were forced underground.

It was an unhappy situation overall, but at least your ancestors did right by ensuring that their prison wouldn’t kill the monsters. (Assuming the barrier would eventually weaken or that the spell would someday lift to free them from their prison, that is.)

“Ah, maybe I’m just worrying over nothing.” You heard your grandmother mutter softly on the line. From the sound of it, you could hear people talking and loud engines rumbling—you guessed that she was leaving the terminal judging by the sounds, which left you feeling light. Your Nana was finally coming _home_. “Forgive me, little one. I’m an old lady and sometimes I react before my mind can catch up with me.”

As if she ever needed to be forgiven. You felt your face relax in a soft expression. “There’s nothing to forgive Nana—and since when have you ever been old? You’re still as spry as me y’know!” Laughter colored your tone while you smiled fondly over the phone. You appreciated the banter between the two of you, feeling so content and at peace that you almost wanted to close your eyes and just _sink_ into the feeling. Instead, you locked up the drawer in the safe in your grandmother’s office before spinning away from her desk to stand up from her plush chair to walk out towards the back of the shop.

“I’ve already closed up the shop, the drawer’s been counted and the safe’s locked—‘m just about to lock up now.” You didn’t need to tell her your routine, but you wanted her to know that you didn’t forget your closing duties. Even though you were a grown woman that was well off in the world, you would always need her gentle validation. It was something that you had to learn not to feel ashamed of seeking out—something that was still a struggle for you to accept even to this day.

“Alright, sunshine. It’s good t’know that I can always count on you. ‘m proud of you.” Nana uttered warmly through your phone and you felt your throat close with emotion. “I’m headin’ home. I’ll see you at the house when I get back, yes?” You had to take a deep breath before you replied, though your voice came out slightly rough.

“Yeah Nana,” You murmured. “Drive safe, okay? I love you.”

“And I love you, sunshine. Talk to you soon.”

“Okay. Bye Nana.”

With your conversation done, you lock your phone and pocket it before walking back to the middle of the shop, doing one last sweep to make sure that everything was as it should be. You noted the time on the old grandfather clock shown as 1:28pm. It was definitely unusual for the shop to close this early, but if there was one thing that your grandmother’s shop was known for, it was for keeping whimsical hours. It was a wonder how your grandmother still kept this business afloat, but then again, your grandmother tended to have a way of doing things that you never thought to question. You simply took it at face value and rolled with it.

(Though you did wonder how the business still seemed to thrive financially—but that was another conversation entirely that you would need to have with your Nana at some point.)

Finding everything in its place, you gave yourself a small nod as if satisfied at yourself for a job well-done before you turned on your heel and headed straight towards the back entrance. You paused in front of the door briefly, breathing deep as you searched inside yourself to feel that flicker that resonated within your body before you suddenly flicked your wrists as the magic gathered in a pleasant tingling sensation. You saw small, smoky wisps of your magic plume and touch the wooden frame of the door, before it quickly spread along the walls and out further into the shop, touching every surface, nook, and cranny that encompassed the area. When you felt it was enough, you closed your fists until you felt the smoke recede and fade into the air. The sweet smell of lavender and cloves was strong enough that it left an after taste upon your tongue, and always a sign of whenever you unleashed your magic; though you only placed a blanket of protection that lasted for a day as a precaution, you still had a few kinks to execute out for the spell to last long-term.

Nevertheless, you did feel a bit of a childish thrill at being able to flex your skills whenever possible. It wasn’t often you allowed yourself to indulge in these desires, but when you _did_ have the opportunity, you didn’t hesitate to do so. Maybe you were much more child-like than you thought. Or maybe you just needed to get rid of the nervous energy that had been building up since you woke this morning. Something inside you seemed to _itch_ , to be let out and run wild without care. It would have surprised you if you hadn’t shut that feeling down.

 _Until Nana get’s home_ , You told yourself firmly. _When she’s home, then we can play. Right now we need to head home._

You went back to your car and quickly unlocked it before hopping inside, your key already in the ignition as you turned the engine on. The radio turned on, reminding you that you didn’t plug your phone in the aux. You were just about to do so when you stilled at the announcement that crooned through your car speakers.

“— _and as we’re about to kick off the town’s annual Fall Festival, we’ve just received news that there’s been some unusual seismic activity emanating from Mount Ebott. While scientists are positive that the mountain is not due to erupt for another century or two, Ebott park rangers and authorities are advising town locals and visitors venturing the hiking trail's to vacate the mountain until scientists confirm that there is no immediate danger. In other news, it has been 6 weeks since the Ebott Alpha Foster Care has reported a missing child near Mount Ebott and local authorities have yet—_ ”

At this point you didn’t want to hear any more from the radio host, so you quickly plugged your phone in and set your playlist to shuffle. The song crooned out a solemn tune that you let a grimace overtake your features before sighing. _Guess it’s fitting, given **that** bit of depressing news. _You thought while driving back up the road towards the highway to home.

The purr of your engine kept you grounded while your mind wandered towards somber thoughts; the legend of the mountain that kept the monsters trapped was a well-known folktale, told to errant children as a lesson in deceiving them into obedience. It was unfortunate that the mountain retained a reputation that held a far more unsettling truth that you found hard to bear. News of any missing children was always an unfortunate occurrence around the world; however, in a small town like Ebott with a reputable local legend of the mountain that was well-known for claiming missing people, it was all the warning given to any who hiked up the trail.

_Legends say that those who climb the mountain never return._

Any that ignored this warning either didn’t believe in the legend and thought themselves above such a powerful superstition (that was actually true), or they _wanted_ the mountain to claim them. The latter thought held a sadness in you, especially when you thought about the _other_ missing children that fell victim to the mountain’s claim.

Before, there had been seven children that went missing, all of them having either got lost up the mountain or had become separated from a group. Yet each child was never reported to be found ever again after the search parties quit looking. Your Nana speculated that the mountain had pulled those children in as if calling them to fall underground. You believed her—you had no reason to doubt otherwise, not with what you knew. You knew that they likely did not survive the fall, that those children had died down underground.

It had become something of a fruitless endeavor for the park rangers and the town’s sheriff department to bother carrying out a search party when they learned that they were reported to be lost on the mountain trail. They had grown up hearing about the mountain’s legend and were faced with the statistics—anyone missing on the mountain’s trail was bound to never be found again. (You could almost hear them think ‘why bother? They’re likely dead by now’— and you wanted to cry.)

It was a frustrating and sad truth that you had a hard time dealing with when your Nana had brought up another heart-clenching truth: that the children were likely found by the monsters. You prayed with all of your soul that those children weren’t in any pain and that they found peace before they had died, for their survival would not have been guaranteed in the underground. You imagined that the monsters underground was not averse to keeping human’s alive, but…somehow, you had a feeling that their fate had been sealed the moment they fell into the mountain’s maw.

Maybe you were cynical for it, but if you were in the monster's position and you were desperate enough, you would have made some sacrifices in order to escape being trapped.

Throughout the years since those children had been missing, your Nana kept old newspaper clippings and missing child posters of those children. ‘ _We need to remember them little one,_ ‘ She told you one day. ‘ _because no one else in this town will give a damn after the years go by…to them, it’s just another statistic. But we both know that the monsters have them. Whether they have killed them or not is out of our hands. All we can do is mourn for them and prepare. That is our duty to them._ ’

The eighth missing child—you couldn’t determine what their gender was, so you didn’t bother—had recently been deemed missing after a search party spent ten days searching for the child before they stopped all efforts. Bitterly, you knew that the mountain had claimed another victim and couldn’t help but mourn for them. You held a private funeral for them and a small prayer, like you offered to the other children, that their journey be a peaceful one.

(You hoped that the little bit of magic that you snuck into your prayer did something to help. It was the intent that counted, at least you hoped it did. But you tried not to get your hopes up.)

As you turned down the long dirt road that led you to the hidden house at the base of the very mountain, you couldn’t help but hope that with today being the day that the Veil between the worlds was at its thinnest (it _was_ Halloween after all, you practically expected some magic to happen when your Nana would finally come home) that things turn for the better. Perhaps after the moon would reveal it’s light, you could sit with your Nana and listen to another of her stories.

Warmed by the thought, you coast to the driveway of the cottage before sliding neatly in your spot before shutting the engine off.

Just before you opened your door, you grabbed your phone, noting that the time with a wry smile. _2:05pm. Plenty of time to start dinner._

Cheered by the promise of food, you walked lazily along the stone pathway when you felt the earth shiver, your heart rose to your throat as the air suddenly felt too _much_ —too little, too hot, too cold, there were so many sensations passing through you that you couldn’t clearly identify it all without losing your senses.

And suddenly, it felt like the very air _crackled_ , _rippled_ , before at last the something that you could only _guess_ was the Veil ( _did you dare to believe it was **that...?**_ )and you knew, deep within your soul that _something_ had happened with Mount Ebott.

You could hardly be blamed as your next thought was rather appropriate for this sort of situation.

_Well…shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Déjà vu is the feeling that one has lived through the present situation before. This is a French phrase that translates literally as "already seen". Although some interpret déjà vu in a paranormal context, mainstream scientific approaches reject the explanation of déjà vu as "precognition" or "prophecy".
> 
> ...thank you wikipedia!
> 
> Now, normally I have a horrible track record of updating consistently, but my goal is to have chapters published once every week. Now I say this because this a goal I want to keep for myself, but I know that pacing and the flow of the story matter more than a consistent update. We'll just have to see!


	3. There and Back Again.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The monsters prepare to leave the Underground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full moon tonight, time to post alsdkfjalj heya! This chapter will be dialogue-heavy and fairly sad. 
> 
> In the epilogue of the game, I found it was pretty neat that you could talk with all of the monsters in the Underground, but especially to Asriel. So this chapter will be in Frisk's POV, who I portray as being selectively mute! 
> 
> (This goes without saying, but just as a heads up: Frisk's pronoun are they/them. There will be no misgendering of their identity thank you very much!)

It was over.

Finally, it was over.

Somehow, despite everything, Frisk had done the impossible. Not only had they defeated Flowey-- _Asriel_ they corrected to themselves quietly—and succeeded in saving everyone’s souls in the Underground, but the barrier that had trapped them for so long was gone. Whatever Flo— _Asriel_ had done after they…fought…after Frisk had went and SAVED everyone (including Asriel himself, before Frisk almost died for what seemed like an _endless_ number of times) Asriel seemed to have come to their senses and used the power that he had amassed from all the souls he absorbed to just… _shatter_ the barrier completely.

And now it was all over.

They had awakened to everyone calling out their name (somehow hearing everyone say their name felt _different_. It was good. They liked it.), concern for their wellbeing received with a quiet assurance before the reality of what happened settled between their little rag-tag group. In equal measure of joy, confusion and relief, everyone came to realize what Frisk felt, the finality of their imprisonment had been lifted and that it was finally _over_ \-- they were finally _free_. Frisk could understand how they felt and sympathize. If anyone deserved freedom from what was likely a lifetime of wrongful imprisonment, it was these kind monsters.

All their efforts from when they first fell down the mountain that led up to this moment left them…tired. Which was a gross understatement if they were being completely honest. _Exhausted_ was far closer to the truth. Frisk could feel fatigue seep deep in their bones (heh.), a feeling that no child would normally experience in their lifetime. But Frisk’s circumstances were, in a lack of a better word, _different_.

One would surely feel the same level of exhaustion too if they had fought and _died_ numerous times, repeating the same stage of battle over and over and over, ceaselessly, while at the mercy of a hostile and malevolent being hellbent on keeping everyone trapped for the sole purpose of continuing their ‘game’.

(They could harbor no feelings of ill will towards the young prince, not while knowing that the root of their actions stemmed from a base emotion: they were _afraid_. How could they condemn them for the loneliness of their forced existence?)

It was a little bit of a shock, but after everything that they had went through and all that they had experienced while journeying through the Underground, for them to finally accomplish their goal was…well…

(Somehow, defeating a God of Hyperdeath had not been on their agenda, but they had learned a long time ago to just roll with whatever was thrown at them. They just tried not to let the blasters, blades and other starry projectiles hit them in the process. And if _that_ wasn’t enough, having to save everyone and help them remember them was no easy task either!)

Frisk could honestly say that they earned the chance to have a moment of rest.

It was a _cathartic_ end, to say the least, to an otherwise perilous and stressful journey.

Now that the barrier was gone and freedom was just within sight, a moment of respite could be set aside. With no dangers in the Underground for Frisk to encounter, they decided to take the advice of everyone gathered to wander the underground one last time to check on all the monsters they had befriended during their long journey.

(They tried not to let their curious stares bother them. They knew that they wanted to know what had happened before the barrier had shattered but…they weren’t ready to say. Maybe later.)

(Sans was _by far_ the most fixated in their stare…and Frisk tried hard not to fidget under their gaze.)

And they did, sparing no expense in greeting every monster that they encountered with only a soft-spoken word to them. They took in the change of their expressions, seeing the shadows of their hopelessness disappear to contort into pure _happiness_ and Frisk couldn’t help but share the same sentiment.

(The news for Burgerpants stuck to their mind the most. They didn’t know why they seemed so defeated, but they supposed their heartfelt declaration of loathing for Mettaton had something to do with it—and then they understood. Frisk may not know what it’s like working customer service, but they could see that it didn’t look fun. They tried not to let the pity show upon their expression when they bid them farewell.)

The boundless thanks and praise they received certainly set them abuzz with warmth that settled through to their soul. All through the Underground, from Hotland to Waterfall and eventually to the small town of Snowdin, they took on the arduous task of sharing the news of their new-found freedom. Their determination fueled them, until their efforts landed them to the last place to complete their task—to the beginning of the very journey they set to complete.

* * *

Frisk wasn’t sure what exactly what they would expect to find in the Ruins, aside from the occasional Whimsun or Froggit at least. They spoke to the shy creatures, informing them of the shattered barrier and as they expected, their surprise and happiness warmed them. An endeavor was made to express their gratitude—Frisk did not forget them, nor the imparted knowledge that they shared that helped them along their journey.

(Frisk only wished that their advice had been followed the first time in their ‘play’ of the game. Had they known…but they remembered their mistake and they set to make it _right_.)

It was past the point where Frisk was about to turn and head back out of the Ruins. They reached the first SAVE point near the entrance of the Ruins when something stilled inside him. Frisk couldn’t say for certain that they understood why they felt the need to continue further into the Ruins. But if there was anything that they knew for certain, it was that _something_ was there-- and it was worth seeking out.

Their curiosity to see what lay in the bed of flowers at the entrance to the Underground filled them with determination.

At this point the path was navigated with hardly any effort, but they supposed that it helped to have the knowledge retained from previous times they walked the familiar corridors of the purple-colored structure. Eventually Frisk reached a familiar column entrance, past a field of grass illuminated by a small circle of sunlight before they walked around the corner to a long hall—

And found Asriel kneeling among the flowers.

Frisk remembered, before waking up that they had walked away with a brief parting that was to signal the end of their existence. Perhaps their own determination kept them from fading away. They couldn’t begin to guess why they still remained, but they were nevertheless glad to see them.

Quietly, Frisk walked towards the monster child and stood before them. They said nothing, waiting for them to either acknowledge them or make a move to dissuade them from staying by their side. They remembered their parting words before they unleashed their power to shatter the barrier, and the sadness and regret that lingered in them tugged at Frisks soul.

They couldn’t leave them be. Not without trying to bring them closure.

Frisk knew that it wouldn’t be long before they would eventually revert back to their form _other form_ as Flowey—Asriel had all but told them that it would inevitably happen. But Frisk was stubborn enough to seek out the prince and provide them company, because despite the things he had done and was readily forgiven for their actions, Frisk understood how painful and terrifying it was to die.

Even if there was a chance that Asriel wouldn’t feel pain, Frisk could think of nothing more terrifying than dying alone—even more horrifying was that Asriel would cease to be ‘himself’ and become a soulless entity incapable of feeling love or compassion.

At first Asriel said nothing as Frisk approached, their focus intent upon the field of flowers before them. They appeared to be tending to the flowers (a trait shared by their mother and father, for sure), their tiny paws checking over the plants in a delicate and loving manner.

“Don’t worry about me.”

Their voice was hushed, the lilt of their humble accent pleasant to Frisks ears. They were used to hearing the mellow and powerful candescence from Toriel and Asgore, yet there was a gentle, innocent quality that Frisk found pleasant to hear. It brought a fresh sense of melancholy to know that in a short span of time, they would never get to hear their voice again. So, they answered with their voice, just as quiet.

“I can’t.” It was said so simply, yet they presented this as fact-- because they couldn’t _not_ worry about them.

“Frisk, please leave me alone.”

“I can’t.” They _wouldn’t._ “I _won’t._ ” They _refused_.

And this time the determination in their voice coursed through, filling them with a conviction that would not be ignored. “Come back with me. Come with me up to the surface. You deserve to be free, just as much as everyone else.”

“I _can’t_ come back.” Their voice sounds so _resigned_ that it breaks Frisks heart. They are sure that he was not just talking about leaving the Underground for good, but that they’re mortally incapable of doing so. “I just _can’t_ , okay?”

Asriel finally looks to Frisk and their expression is filled with pain and anguish. “I…I don’t want to break their hearts all over again…”

The image of Toriel and Asgore’s faces fill Frisk’s mind and they adamantly shake their head. “I think they would want to see you again, Asriel.”

”…it’s…better that they never see me again.”

There was a lot they could say to Asriel’s statement that could have persuaded them to return with them to their mother and father one last time. Instead, Frisk said nothing. They wouldn’t argue with them—if Asriel believed that it was best to spare his parents the pain of seeing their son pass on again, then there was nothing Frisk could do to persuade him to change his mind. It didn’t mean that Frisk agreed. But Frisk knew there was only so much that they could do. The best they could do was be there for him, a silent comfort before the inevitable happened. It was the least Frisk could offer.

“…why are you still here?”

“I thought you could use the company.” It was the truth, and yet somehow there was more spoken between them than what a simple phrase conveyed. In the silence of the field of yellow flowers, they had quickly understood what was left unsaid. That in another lifetime, perhaps they would have sat together as they did now under brighter, happier circumstances. If only they could pretend that they were living with those circumstances now.

“Frisk…” Asriel began and paused. Their fuzzy expression contorted in thought. It was adorable, Frisk supposed. Their features in that moment held an uncanny resemblance to Toriel, leaving them with a fond feeling that brought a slight tilt to their lips. An almost-smile shifted their stoic expression, a barely-there change, before it reverted to their default visage at the glance given by the prince.

“Hey.” Asriel began hesitantly. “Let me ask you a question.”

Frisk nodded.

“Frisk…” He began. “Why did you come here?” He made a gesture to the cave. “Everyone knows the legend right…? ‘Travelers who climb Mount Ebott are said to disappear’…”

This time, Frisk looked away as their expression went blank. It was perhaps the first time anyone had ever asked them _why_ they climbed the summit of Mount Ebott before falling to the Underground. It was something that Frisk couldn’t explain in a simple conversation—the timing certainly wasn’t right for one and—

Well. They weren’t sure they would _ever_ be ready to tell anyone the reason.

(Whatever life they had before was enough of a reason for Frisk to seek an escape from…and though the possibility that they could have died in the fall had occurred, it was the fear of going back to their life on the surface that had them take the leap.)

(Their choice held an unexpected result, but they were not adverse of repeating the same course of action again if it meant they would be together with their new family.)

“Frisk.”

They looked back at the prince, noting that their soft expression did little to contort the sympathy shown in their eyes. “Why would you ever climb a mountain like that…?” He asked. No judgment found in their expression: just curiosity. “Was it foolishness? Was it fate? Or was it…because you…?”

There was a lapse of silence.

“Well…only you know the answer, don’t you…?”

The simple statement held an understanding that Frisk did not dare to acknowledge. The two children do not speak for a while. Both seem content to sit beneath the vast opening of the cave where the light shined down upon them, watching the flowers sway to the gentle breeze passing by.

(It occurs to Frisk that they can now _breathe_ fresh air—and is that sunlight? Somehow it feels like they hadn’t seen the sun in _years_ …truly, they wondered just how long they were down in the Underground…?)

“I know…why Chara climbed the mountain…” Asriel began slowly. “It wasn’t for a very happy reason. Frisk, I’ll be honest with you. Chara… _hated_ humanity. Why they did, they never talked about it. But they felt **very** strongly about that.”

Frisk listened without comment. From what they had gathered from those that knew the Fallen child, they were adopted by the King and Queen, treating them as their own child while the monsters revered them with respect. Overall, Chara was loved as equally as Asriel had been and they had filled the Underground with hope, once upon a time.

They imagined that the home they left behind had to have left a dark impression upon them if their hatred had caused them to carry over a devastating consequence because of their actions.

Frisk… _understood_ the sentiment. Of _hating_ humanity. They were…no good. Not like monsters. And they could certainly understand Chara’s reasoning for their actions—that they _didn’t_ agree with, there was _always_ another way—but in the same manner…the actions of one group didn’t mean that humans as a whole were _bad_.

There was always an exception, and for every bad, there was at least _some_ good. Frisk believed that wholeheartedly.

“Frisk…you really **are** different from Chara. In fact, though you have similar, uh, _fashion_ choices…I don’t know why I ever acted like you were the same person.” Sheepishly (heh.) Asriel continued after a brief pause. “Maybe the truth is…Chara… _wasn’t_ really the greatest person.”

You saw his face shift, contorting into a grimace as if admitting this was painful for him. Perhaps in a way it was.

“While you…you’re the type of friend I wish I always had.”

Frisk blinked. They didn’t expect to hear that from Asriel, but they didn’t find anything disagreeable with their statement. In fact, they were a little…pleased at his admission. They placed their hand atop their paw, drawing a startled look from the monster child before they gave them a small smile. Frisk watched him return the expression with a shy hesitance that they suspected had more to do with their personality rather than being nervous of their physical display of affection.

“I would like to be friends with you too.” Said Frisk. “Even…when you’re no longer here…I’ll always be your friend…if that’s okay…?”

The young princes’ eyes grew wide, their mouth parting before it firmed, lips quivering with an effort to reign their emotions in. Their paw suddenly squeezed Frisk’s hand tight—a desperate hold, one that echoed so much emotion that it could easily be understood in such a simple gesture.

“Y-yes.” Came the choked reply from the prince. “Though, I have to admit…I was kind of projecting a little bit…and let’s be honest—I did some _weird_ stuff as a flower.”

No argument there.

Another silence dragged on between them, but Frisk didn’t mind. They would listen to their friend for as long as they wished—for what time they had left.

“There’s…one last thing I feel like I should tell you.” Asriel began after a moment’s silence. “Frisk, when Chara and I combined souls together…the control over our body was actually split between the two of us. They were the ones that picked up their own empty body. And then when we got to the village…”

The anguish returned in full force over Asriel’s face, a shadow of horror bringing credence to the truth of just how deep Chara’s hatred ran.

“They were the ones that wanted to use our full power.” He whispered. “I was the one that resisted. And then, because of me…we…” His mouth suddenly twisted into a wry, sad curve that was a facsimile of a smile. “Well, that’s why I ended up as a flower.”

“This whole time, I’ve blamed myself for that decision. That’s why I adopted that horrible view of the world:

‘Kill or be killed.’”

Frisk suppressed a shudder.

“But now…after meeting you…” This time, the curve of their mouth turned genuine with newfound hope. “Frisk, I don’t regret that decision anymore. I did the right thing. If I killed those humans…We would have waged war against all of humanity. And in the end, everyone went free, right?”

 _Except you,_ Frisk thought with sadness. Nevertheless, they nodded. _Even Chara…they deserved better too…_

“I still feel kind of sad knowing how long it took…so maybe it wasn’t a perfect decision.” Asriel continued. “But you can’t regret hard choices your whole life, right? Well, not that I have much of a life left…but that’s beside the point.”

The monster turned to face Frisk, reaching for their other hand to hold; both his hands held Frisk’s, his hold gentle while he looked ready to gather the last of his resolve. Frisk’s attention was held in the same way: gently and with care.

“Frisk, thank you for listening to me. You should really go be with your friends now, ok?”

The human gave his paw’s a tight squeeze of silent protest. “It’s okay…really,” Asriel assured. “I’m glad to have been able to talk with you like this while I’m…still me. Oh, and please—in the future, if you, uh, see me…”

_If you see ‘Flowey’—_

“Don’t think of it as ‘me’, ok? I just want you to remember me like this…please…?” Asriel begged quietly, and Frisk relented. How could they deny them? “Someone that was your friend for a little while.”

“Of course.” It was the best assurance Frisk had to offer. It took a considerable amount of effort for Frisk not to cry—as much as they wished too, they were determined to be strong for their friend in what was likely their final moments. It wouldn’t be long before Asriel would no longer retain their ability to feel love.

(They never thought they would have to witness a friend’s existence cease to be right before their eyes. The knowledge made the moment between them bittersweet.)

“Frisk…be careful in the outside world, ok?” Asriel said, their tone holding a note of warning. “Despite what everyone thinks, it’s not as nice as it is here. There are a lot of Floweys out there, and not everything can be resolved by just being nice.”

“I will.” Frisk promised. They knew the world beyond the Underground wasn’t kind, but the best that they could hope for was to make the world a little brighter with the help of monsterkind. Perhaps there would be some humans that would reject them, but there was just as much of a chance for one human to help monsters. It was that one small possibility that brought hope for Frisk.

It made them determined to give humanity a chance.

“And Frisk…” Asriel continued. “Don’t kill and don’t be killed, alright? That’s the best you can strive for.”

“I promise.” They vowed.

Asriel smiled—a true smile, as bright and beautiful as the sun shining upon the field of golden flowers. Frisk found themselves smiling too, before they leaned forward to hug the young monster. The two children stayed locked in a tight embrace, one that felt like it lasted a long time—and yet it ended far too soon for either of them to like.

(No one was there to judge them for the desperation of their embrace. They knew this was the end: their last goodbye.)

It was Asriel that spoke, and Frisk could tell that they struggled not to cry as they pulled away from their embrace. “Well…see you, Frisk.”

A quiet breath was drawn from their lips before they nodded and stood up from their spot among the flower field. The prince did not look while the human began to walk away, and Frisk did not look back as they walked towards the entrance back to the Ruins. Both children cried silent tears as they grew further apart, torn by a happenstance of a cruel fate that was neither fair nor deserved, but nevertheless was enforced.

Frisk felt like this parting was perhaps the worst one they had ever endured; they have never attended a funeral ceremony, but they were sure that walking away from Asriel was to say a final goodbye. In their heart, they wanted nothing more than to run right back to Asriel’s side and cry—for them and the life that was brought to a sudden and awful end. Yet Frisk trudged on, their steps following the same familiar path they had traveled countless times, as they furiously wiped their tears with the sleeve of their dirty sweater.

_It’s not fair._

Life was not fair. Even _death_ was not fair. It seemed that the scales were would never remain balanced. It made everything feel hopeless in that moment. One had to wonder if there was a God or deity out there in the universe that thought this was a game to them. If it was, Frisk thought that they were worse than Flowey. At least he held a belief that provided a semblance of balance. Yet whatever God was out there seemed to delight in the suffering of the undeserved.

Distracted by the malcontent of their thoughts amid their melancholy, their walk through the Ruins abruptly ended when Frisk suddenly collided into a solid form. A whoosh of air escaped, lightly knocking the breath from their body while jarring them to the present. They looked up quickly, their bangs providing a cover to hide their distress, expecting to find them in front of the door leading outside of the Ruins and into the snowy forest.

The familiar blue hoodie of Sans made Frisk blink in surprise, providing ample time to clear the cloud of grief that hung over them. It would be difficult to explain to Sans why they had been crying—their final conversation with Asriel opened too many questions for Frisk, questions that they weren’t yet ready to answer.

(Too soon. The emotion was still too raw for them to talk about, their grief a bleeding ache that they could barely staunch the flow of.)

If Sans noticed how bloodshot their eyes were, he made no comment. He seemed for all the world to be perfectly at ease, a posture that was his default state of being, if one didn’t know any better.

“’sup kid.”

Silence filled the air between them for a brief spell. Frisk didn’t bother trying to be discreet in wiping the tears from their eyes, while Sans stood watching. When Frisk finally looked up to Sans’ skeletal face, they noted that their expression was pleasantly neutral. When Sans’ eyelights landed on Frisk’s face, the degree of their smile shifted lower into a decidedly noticeable frown. This surprised Frisk—they had known Sans only to _ever_ smile, even when they were serious.

“kid…” He began. He looked decidedly uncomfortable as he shifted his stance from side to side while one hand reached the back of his skull to rub in a nervous gesture. The sound of scraping bone was an unpleasant but welcome distraction from the turmoil of Frisks thoughts. “y’okay?”

Frisk hesitated. They didn’t want to lie to Sans, but they couldn’t tell them the reason for their distress. They suddenly felt their exhaustion fall on their shoulders, bringing their posture to a defeated slump. They were so _tired_ …

“Just…tired.” They answered finally, letting their body language speak the truth for them. Sans would have the presence of mind to pick up the subtle queue that they weren’t ready to talk. As someone who was aware of the RESETs, Frisk knew Sans deserved to know the truth of what happened that caused the barrier to shatter.

But that would have to wait.

“I think… I’m ready to go.” Frisk said—and they realized suddenly that it was true. They were ready to leave the Underground and the scars and memories it brought them behind.

They could only move forward from now on.

Sans merely slipped his hand back inside his hoodie, before offering Frisk a wane smile. “cool.” Without a word he turned and began walking down the corridor towards the stone door that opened up to the frozen forest. “tori asked me to find ya.” He said, a shrug to his shoulders leaving an impression that made it seem like it was a favor he rarely did. “everyone was startin’ to worry ‘bout ya. they kept textin’ ya and tried to call, but…i guess you were busy, huh?”

Frisk took their phone out—and sure enough, they saw a multitude of messages and voicemails from various people. Guilt panged inside them briefly and they snuck a peek up at Sans, who merely looked at them with their familiar neutral smile. “Sorry…” Frisk muttered. “I didn’t mean to worry everyone…”

“s’fine. what’s important is that you’re okay.”

The door opened and the chill of the forest breezed by the two figures as they stepped over the stone threshold and onto the snowy path before the door shut with a finality that echoed amidst the silent forest.

The two figures walked the long familiar path surrounded by trees and snow in silence. The only sound made between them was the crunch of snow. As condensation puffed from Frisks breath, the presence of snow began to shower down in a gentle powder along the path. Their approach of the bridge and the gateway that was too wide to properly bar anyone from passing held a light dusting of snow. Frisk and Sans crossed the bridge and continued to walk the pathway leading up to the town of Snowdin. Sans station stood as the first checkpoint; seeing the familiar yet conveniently shaped lamp summoned a smile from Frisk, the memory a balm to the fresh grief haunting their heart.

“heh, was wonderin’ when i’d see that smile again. i thought i’d never see the _light_ again.”

Frisk bit their lip. Oh no—that was _terrible_. Yet Sans seemed to sense their struggle to remain composed and became encouraged to continue, dealing out pun after pun with a seamless succession.

“was startin’ to think you’d gone _dark_ , thought maybe a _torch_ of humor could help _lighten up_ your mood, but maybe you wouldn’t hold a _candle_ to my masterful puns—”

It was no use. An eruption of giggles that couldn’t be suppressed any longer was withdrawn from their lips, their high and mirthful sound ringing all around the forest, breaking the heavy and tense silence that lingered between them. Frisk realized that Sans was trying to cheer them up, despite not knowing the reason for their unhappiness. Even though he had every cause to be concerned, Sans was patient, seeming content to wait until Frisk was ready to speak about whatever upset them.

It was one of the many things that Frisk liked about Sans. They appreciated their easy-going attitude and felt no pressure to confess what riddled their thoughts. Even when their concern showed in their eyelights, their smile was still the same lazy, familiar stretch that remained prominent on their skull.

Frisk laughter died the moment that Sans stopped talking, an act of mercy that was only given due to the need to cross the last bridge that stretched along the great gorge that stood between them and the town of Snowdin. Frisk wondered if Sans had performed a shortcut to cut their walk short (heh.); they suspected that was the case but made no comment while they stepped over the last plank of the bridge.

Their journey through the town was met with calls and greetings, the air charged with a vigor and candescent bliss that was hard not to bask in. Frisk found themselves returning each greeting with renewed enthusiasm, bringing a glow to their cheeks that had little to do with the cold. Warmth poured inside them as the monsters of Snowdin worked their magic with cheer and goodness that Frisk treasured dearly. It was for them that made the fight worth the pain and grief they suffered; for these monsters, Frisk used everything they had: their wits, wiles, and determination to forge ahead despite the odds against them.

It was good to remember that even through the despair and sadness, there was always hope.

Suddenly Sans stopped walking to stand in front of his house. Frisk stopped beside them and looked up at the skeleton curiously. Sans merely winked.

“’m not up to walkin’ all the way back to the capital. thought we could take a shortcut back instead,” he stated casually. “unless…you would rather walk?” He let the offer hang, leaving the decision to Frisk.

Frisk considered Sans’ offer while they stood in the snow outside of Sans and Papyrus’s house; Frisk was sure that they greeted nearly every monster in the Underground with news of the freedom. There were no other tasks that they neglected to do. All that was left was to meet with everyone and leave for the surface.

Frisk looked at Sans and nodded.

* _You told Sans that you would go with him._

“heh, thought so. ‘m sure paps would have been proud of how far i walked, but i think from now on i’ll be stickin’ with the ol’ sans expressway.” He delivered this teasing remark with another wink before he removed his left hand from his pocket and held it out to the child. “let’s go kiddo.”

Without hesitation, Frisk took Sans’ hand. One moment the chill of Snowdin surrounded them before Frisk blinked their eyes and in the next, they were back in the throne room. The vast expanse of buttercup flowers along the floor brought a pang of sorrow. It still hurt to leave behind Asriel, who only now had Frisk become close, yet they stood straighter and with shoulders shifted back as if to draw strength from within.

Even though they still grieved, the possibility of a new life with the friends they made in the Underground filled them with determination. Embolden by their will to forge ahead beyond their sadness, Frisk walked beside Sans past the giant throne and towards the corridor leading towards the barrier.

They were ready to finally see the surface.

* * *

The sudden arrival of Sans and Frisk caught the attention of the group waiting, producing exclamations of delight; as Frisk approached the familiar circle of friends gathered, they couldn’t help but smile. Without hesitation they reached up to Toriel, seeking the vast warmth and maternal love that she produced effortlessly.

“My child.” Affection colored her visage, her jaw lowering to nuzzle the top of Frisk’s head while she spoke with tenderness. “Welcome back. Is everything alright?”

Frisk nodded and closed their eyes, settling against the space between her neck and shoulder. They answered in their usual silence, preferring to let their soul tell the truth of their words.

* _You tell Toriel everything is alright._

“I see.” Toriel replied, sharing a look with Sans, who only shrugged.

“FRISK! YOU’RE BACK! FOR A MOMENT I THOUGHT I WOULD HAVE TO GO OUT AND SEARCH THE WHOLE UNDERGROUND FOR YOU, BUT IT LOOKS LIKE MY BROTHER FOUND YOU FIRST!”

“sure did bro,” Sans remarked with a decidedly lazy drawl. Frisk lifted their head and smiled at the two skeleton siblings. Papyrus’s happy smile brought Frisk in a better mood than before. It was hard to remain sad while the boisterous skeleton radiated with positivity; seeing their friend grin brought a light feeling to their soul and an urge to reciprocate their energy with affection. Frisk signaled to their maternal guardian with a touch of their shoulder to be let down before they ran across to leap up into Papyrus’s arms.

A shout of Papyrus' signature laughter ("NYEH-HEH-HEH!") echoed the space as Frisk hugged their body against Papyrus’s chest plate, their arms wrapped tight around their neck.

* _You tell Papyrus you missed him._

“REALLY? WOWIE!” Papyrus remarked, their surprise overshadowed by the happiness in their voice. “I KNOW IT WAS HARD TO LEAVE THE GREAT PAPYRUS BEHIND FRISK, BUT IT’S OKAY NOW! I’LL ALWAYS BE HERE FOR YOU!”

Frisk looked up at Papyrus and grinned.

* _You tell Papyrus that you’re lucky to have such a cool friend._

“O-OF COURSE!” Papyrus’ eyelights dilated, appearing almost to have sparkles shimmer within the depths of their sockets before he composed himself, letting out a laugh. “NYEH-HEH-HEH! OUR FRIENDSHIP WAS ALWAYS BOUND FOR SUCCESS! AFTERALL, YOU TRIED MY FRIENDSHIP SPAGHETTI!”

Frisk merely smiled and nodded.

Before Papyrus could launch into a monologue recollecting Frisk’s (entirely exaggerated) love of his culinary genius, the sudden tug of a familiar muscular blue arm hook around Papyrus’ neck and yanks them low, bringing them in a headlock by Undyne. At this point, Frisk had already seen the fish woman stride towards them and elected to slide out of Papyrus’ embrace before getting caught in the crossfire of what was likely to be a severe case of the skeleton noogie.

“YO PAPYRUS!!” Bellowed Undyne, who then proceeded (as predicted by Frisk) to grind their other fist against the top of Papyrus’ skull. “QUIT HOGGIN’ THE KID ALREADY!!”

“PLEASE DON’T NOOGIE THE SKELETON!” Papyrus’s protests came out shrill while struggling to escape Undyne’s stronghold.

“Fuhuhuhuhu!” The unbridled glee Undyne showed was a menacing sight to behold, accentuated by how sharp her teeth gleamed. Her rough display of affection was something Frisk had to navigate a little more…carefully than most. But they knew she was just passionate in nearly everything she did.

Frisk waved at Undyne, who decided to release poor Papyrus-- before immediately suplexing him to the ground, causing the ground to shake with a definitive _crack_.

Frisk hoped that Papyrus survived.

(They were almost positive he could survive. Hopefully.)

“C’mon Papyrus, you gotta keep your guard up next time!” Undyne cackled before fixing her eye upon Frisk. Her lips widened into a sharp smile, bordering on manic before taking several great strides towards them. Undyne stood towering before Frisk and merely smiled down at them. Then faster than lightning, her webbed hand shot out and clutched the top of Frisk’s head and made a motion to lift them.

“Sup nerd! Are you ready to go yet or what?!” came her excited bellow.

* _You tell Undyne that you’re ready._

Frisk was dropped easily back on their feet, much to their relief.

“About time! Hey Alphys!! Frisk’s ready to go, are you ready??”

“R-r-ready U-undyne!”

A familiar yellow reptile peeked behind Undyne’s taller form wearing a hesitant but amused smile.

“H-hello Frisk,” Alphys uttered. “I-I’m g-g-glad you a-a-are a-alright.”

“Yeah, Papyrus wasn’t kidding about searchin’ the whole Underground for you,” Undyne said. “We texted you, like, a _bajillion_ times and you never answered! Even _Sans_ was starting to worry.”

Frisk blinked their eyes before they turned towards where Sans stood. The skeleton in question stood beside Toriel—and was fast asleep.

“SANS!! YOU BONEHEAD! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU FELL ASLEEP!”

Papyrus, who appeared no worse for wear than when Frisk greeted them (if a little bit dirty from the scuffle with Undyne), strode up to the eldest and proceeded to sigh loudly before picking them up and carry them beneath their arm.

“HONESTLY, IT’S A WONDER HOW HE MANAGES TO FALL ASLEEP SO EASILY!” For all his blustering, Frisk could see Papyrus look on fondly at his brother. It was heartwarming to know that foundation the brothers' bonds were unshakable, even when faced with their flaws and faults.

A perplexed look crosses Toriel’s face before her paw covers her mouth to stifle a giggle. “Oh my.” She appeared to not have noticed that the eldest brother had fallen asleep and didn't know what to make of the situation. "I guess he was simple _bone_ tired!"

A mixture of groans and laughter filled the room, earning a cheery grin from the goat monster.

“Golly, it looks like everyone’s ready to see the surface.” Came a deep, familiar tenor.

Frisk turned to greet the last person of their little rag-tag group with a ready and open smile. Asgore looked upon Frisk with an expression that was kind; the ruler of the Underground and all its denizens stood tall, towering as a mass of soft, white fur and armor. Frisk remembered when he first encountered Asgore, embued with the knowledge that this very monster would wage war upon humanity. They remembered how solemn and resigned they looked when they fought; that even when they swung their trident or rained fire upon them, Asgore could never meet their gaze. Frisk had known then that they did not want to kill them.

Asgore as a monster was indeed an intimidating sight at first glance; however, Frisk saw a gentleness that belayed their stature as King of the Monsters. That he was also held a perchance for gardening with a love for tea certainly shattered the preception Asgore carried as a frightening monster. They kept this belief as they approached Asgore, the surety and confidence in their step asserting them to proceed with the final undertaking that brought great anticipation to the monsters in the room.

Frisk reached out and took Asgore’s paw, their fingers barely wrapping around their index finger before giving the appendage a firm squeeze. Their gesture of comfort seemed to startle him before their features transitioned into a look of ease. It seemed their touch soothe the great monster. Perhaps in a way, it soothed Frisk too. Frisk hoped that they conveyed their intent through their actions, a reassurance that there was no need to worry-- everything would be okay now. With this understanding, Frisk smiled and released the monarch’s paw, before voicing the words through their soul that seemed to be what everyone waited for.

* _You tell Asgore that you are ready to leave._

“Well then…” The King smiled before glancing at everyone surrounding Frisk, who all held varying expressions of anticipation and hope. “Lead the way, Frisk.”

With a glance behind their shoulder, Frisk looked to their friends before they faced forward and stepped towards the archway leading towards the surface—

—and towards their freedom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then everything will be totally great on the surface and nothing bad ever happens ever!  
> Right?  
> Right??
> 
> ...teehee :P
> 
> (Broke: Papyrus believes his cooking is great when its really terrible, but everyone tells him its good because they don't want to hurt his feelings.  
> Woke: Contrary to how confident he acts while cooking, Papyrus knows their cooking isn't great but he still keeps trying to improve and everyone tells him he's getting better!)
> 
> The best way to improve is through encouragement! :3


	4. The Lull.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You check the cottage for any disturbances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya! I hope everyone is doing okay and staying safe with everything going on! May the New Year bring brighter days and many blessings!
> 
> I'll admit that as soon as I posted ch.3, I had already completed this chapter, but I wanted to proofread and edit the mistakes beforehand. I'll likely still find small mistakes here and there but! I'm not too worried, you guys have been so kind and it honestly has encouraged me to continue to write. This story is fun and I hope you guys are enjoying the story so far!
> 
> (Something I did want to mention in case it wasn't understood, but both the reader and myself have ADHD, so I guess this is my way of projecting myself into the reader...which I guess she's becoming more and more of a self-insert (oops? ;v; I hope people don't mind!)...guess I'll need to update the tags at some point alsdkjfals)

You _weren’t_ panicking.

(Except she was.)

No, you _weren’t_. Everything was fine. You took a deep breath to calm the fluttering inside your soul and went through your mental checklist while you quickly made your way up the front porch, the length of your stride almost making you gallop to the front door. You assessed the obvious: the house was still standing, with no signs of recent wear or tear other than the usual disrepair that was common of an older building. It looked the same as you had left it before you left the house this morning. But you saw no _new_ damage at least.

At some point, you would either need to hire someone to come out and fix some things—but that was another worry for later.

You scanned the porch, your gaze passing over the swing set that gently swayed in the breeze. Nothing but nature appeared to disturb the furniture. All look normal, so you approached the door, your eyes flickered around at the door frame for any disturbances. Your exhaled, and a faint curl of magic followed the motion like condensation from a cold morning, startling you. That wasn’t a _normal_ reaction you expected, but you continued, nevertheless. You stood before the threshold when you remembered the… _shiver_ you felt earlier that left in its wake a residue of magic in the air that you could easily sense. Actually, it was difficult _not_ to notice.

To a mundane human, they probably would have felt like they walked through a room charged with a faint static of electricity; but to you, it left a near physical mark. Your Nana had said that sensing magic was unique for each mage or witch and explained that it depended on which of the senses a person relied on.

‘ _Some prefer one or another an’ some use a few or all. It’s all a matter of preference little one,_ ’ she said. ‘ _whatever makes you feel most comfortable is the best way. But y’gotta learn to use all your senses when in the presence of heavy magic. Y’never know when it’ll come in handy._ ’

You let your senses take over, focused on your sight and smell; your grandmother’s essence was the strongest that permeated the cottage, filling your mouth with the taste of molasses. It coated your tongue in a warm and rich flavor you never grew tired of, while the sight of gentle lilac ribbons of smoke trailed lazily through the air, melding within the very bones of the house. You wouldn’t be surprised if the property was seeped with her magic, especially considering the length of time she had lived near the mountain. You surmise at least several decades' worth of magic had sunk into all corners of her home and throughout the expanse of her property.

(The knowledge alone was _incredible_ and showed you just how powerful of a witch your grandmother was.)

Your essence was a newer addition, the familiar tell-tale ribbons of lavender color and scent touched with the taste of cloves was not as prominent, yet it appeared to weave happily along with your grandmother’s magic. You felt the corner of your lip curl at that. Even your magic recognized kin and endeavored to stay close.

You found yourself becoming distracted, the emersion of your senses leaving you to run away with fond reminiscences conjured by the surrounding magic; you reeled your thoughts back to the present before they ran ahead of you, ignoring the memories forming in your mind that occurred in your current situation.

_Don’t think—focus!_

You extended your left hand, the gathered magic coating your palm in a dense mist before it condensed at the tip of your index finger. As soon as you set a target for your magic, the smoke-like wisps of lavender floated and touched the wooden door frame. The inscribed runes etched into the wood flared white before a _crackling_ sound revibrated in the air. _Well._ You mused. _That’s another check._ The wards were still intact.

Almost as an afterthought, you spared a brief glance behind your shoulder to confirm whether the forest _was_ on fire. The lack of smoke and fire emanating from the forest was a dead giveaway of course, but you could never be too careful after all.

Thankfully, it was not. _Good to know._

As far as she could tell, none of the wildlife (that you could see at least) seemed perturbed by the goings-on of the rest of the world. For all they knew, everything was as it should be: quiet and without any weird disturbances.

_If that ain’t a sign, I don’t know what is._

It provided you with some comfort at least. As soon as you unlocked the door to the house, your shoulders drooped, the muscles going lax from their held tension. If the animals were unaffected by the surge of power that rippled throughout the land, it meant that this phenomenon was not a natural one; as unusual as this was, it didn’t mean you were necessarily in danger ( _yet_ ), but it made your unspoken theory more and more plausible with every passing second. When you finally stepped over the doorway and closed the door, the silence of the cottage greeted you as you expected, but somehow you sensed there was something _more_.

Even though you knew that the proverbial shit had hit the fan, you calmly ascended the stairs towards your room. No use in panicking when you had no clue as to what the hell was going on, so you may as well change into something comfortable. The duster crop-top was cute, but the chill you anticipated to arrive by nightfall would have made your nipples as hard as razers, and quite frankly, you didn’t think you could pull that look off. No point in looking cute if you were miserable.

So with that, you strode in your room towards your closet for a simple white cotton camisole. You unwrapped your jacket from your hips to lay on your bed before quickly peeling off your duster crop-top, dropping it carelessly on the floor. Ignoring the chills that shivered along your torso (that you were sure had more to do with the magic and little to do with the temperature of the house), you slipped the camisole on. Properly covered, you then snatched your jacket and slipped inside, groaning as the residual heat from your body helped chase the chill from your arms and torso.

_Ahh, toasty…_

The pleasant warmth that your jacket brought you made you glanced forlornly at your bed, and you were faced with a sudden dilemma. Right now you knew that something had happened to Mount Ebott, something that caused that _shiver_ , making the magic in the air almost _tangible_ to command. You knew that it wasn’t anything natural. You knew, but you almost didn’t dare to believe, didn’t _allow_ yourself the moment to think. That sort of surge was something you had never experienced before, not in all your short time as a witch. You were, quite frankly, a little in over your head, and you knew that until your grandmother came home, you had to hold down the fort and investigate the perimeter of your grandmother’s property for any signs of her wards being disturbed. It was the least you could do.

After all, it would assure your grandmother that you were taking your duty seriously and it would put your mind at ease that nothing would happen.

However.

You hesitated to begin your task to investigate the property for any abnormalities. You recalled the information that you knew when you checked the wards at the front door of the cottage, rationalizing that there were no noticeable signs of anything unusual. You didn’t sense any malevolent energy, only that the wards upon the house were active, albeit quite charged and very _strong_. You hazarded a guess that the other wards that extended beyond your grandmother’s property were in the same state. Though it would put your grandmother (and yourself) at ease to at least _check_ them to see if they were tampered with…

You were a little tired from the excitement of the day, and your bed was an inviting distraction that you found yourself falling ever closer to giving in to the temptation to take a small nap.

 _Okay…it’s now—2:25pm. Nana won’t be back for a couple of hours at least._ You thought. _An hour to nap before it gets dark won’t hurt anything. Besides, if something_ did _activate the wards, it would have to be a deer or a bear or_ something _. Totally nothing malevolent or spooky._

(You almost sounded convincing to yourself.)

Assured by your decision, you approached your bed and crawled across the mattress, until you were properly lying atop the comforter and pillows. You didn’t bother kicking off your shoes in case you needed to quickly leave the house for something. Instead, you grabbed the edge of the comforter and turned your body until you were wrapped like a burrito. You could deal with that minuscule discomfort while you slept later.

It didn’t take you long to fall asleep. Warm and safe in your bed, you felt the vestiges of exhaustion creep upon you, the edges of your vision fading into the fuzzy, familiar sensation of sleep before your eyelids finally closed.

You slept and allowed yourself the moment to forget your worries about the present.

* * *

The sudden and loud shriek of the emergency alert blaring from your phone jerked you out of your nap, your limbs a flurrying of panic that did little to stop you from falling off your bed. The fall didn’t hurt you, what with the comforter wrapped around your body, but the rude awakening made you groan. Groggily, you wiggled and flung your arm out to find your phone, of which you had the presence of mind to leave on your bedside table plugged in to charge. Go you.

Grasping the device in your hand as soon as your fingers pried it up off the surface of the table, you brought it to your face, squinted at the screen to read the message shown on your wallpaper:

**!! Emergency Alert**

> _Scientists have deemed the recent seismic activity occurring within Mt. Ebott as nonthreatening and permit citizens of Ebott to resume daily activities. Further activity will be updated._

Well, that was good news! You felt relieved to know that at least the mountain wasn’t going to come down upon your house. Your Nana would have been _pissed_. You managed to wiggle out of your plushy prison, scooting across the floor like a worm. The image made you giggle as you managed to crawl out until at last, you were freed. You stood up and stretched, listening to your back pop a few times before you let out a sigh of bliss. You noted the light outside your window and felt relief; the sun was just starting to make its descent upon the horizon, leaving just enough light for you to complete your task before your Nana came home.

You spent a few moments checking your messages and saw that your grandmother that was sent at 4:06pm.

> **Nana <3: **I’ll be home around 6, love you. -Nana

That gave you a rough estimate of how much time you had to check on the remaining wards on the property. The current time on your phone read 4:32pm— less than two hours remaining. You could work with that amount of time. If you were fast enough, you could have dinner ready by the time your grandmother came home. The thought left you with a happy feeling inside, filling you with determination. Pocketing your phone, you gathered up your comforter and threw it back on your bed before you left your room.

You made your way downstairs, turning left at the end of the railing towards the hallway before you walked into the kitchen. Your stomach was growling in protest, a sign of neglect from this morning when you completely forgot to eat the breakfast bars you had stashed inside your jacket pocket. When you palmed the prepackaged sustenance through your jacket's pocket, it felt lumpy and broken. Ugh. Not exactly appetizing. You grimaced and quickly took a bowl and spoon out before fishing out the bars, opening the packages to dump them in the bowl.

It was the closest to ‘fast’ food as you were gonna get. Just a splash of milk and _bam_ —a snack before dinner.

While you ate, you leaned against the kitchen counter near the sink, mulling over what to make for dinner. You didn’t have time for a full course meal, so something easy would have to do. And then an idea struck you. Deciding what to eat was simple, thanks to the wonderful and life-changing kitchen appliance your grandmother owned: the crockpot. God, you loved this thing. You didn’t have to break out a pot or pan, you could just throw in the ingredients as quick as can be, filled it with the appropriate amount of liquid, and then turn on the timer. Easy-peasy.

It was just as well that you decided on what to make. Finishing your snack, you went through the task of taking out the ingredients to prep them for their trip into the cooking vessel for stew. You were sure that this meal would be a hit—rich, flavorful, and hearty, it was a perfect meal to come home to and one you could take pride in eating. What was even better was that nearly all the ingredients were all harvested from your grandmother's garden. It seemed appropriate for you after all. Your Nana always worried about whether you were eating enough and always strove to ensure that you never went without a belly full of good food.

You ensured that you made this meal with her in mind, and even snuck in a bit of magic while you cut the vegetables and meat to be added into the crockpot. One of the things you had learned from Nana was utilizing magic in subtle ways: like a gesture, whether big or small, it always carried an intent by the individual delivering that gesture. Some gestures, like a hug, were simple acts and held no specific meaning; but when you infused the act with an intent of love, then that act—that gesture held a magic of its own caliber. It was something so small that you never would have thought to have considered it a craft of magic, but in its own way, it made sense. After all, you had firsthand experience of that kind of magic with your grandmother.

Your intent was earnest, excited, and loving as you hummed a tune to accompany your task. Every slice, every cut to the ingredients that you fed and mixed into the pot, your magic thrummed, building up to spill gently among the meal you lovingly prepared.

_I’m happy you’re coming home._

_I can’t wait to see you!_

_I missed you._

_Please rest._

_Don’t worry Nana, I’ve got everything covered._

_I love you._

_Everything’s okay._

_We’re safe._

_There’s nothing to worry about._

* * *

With the timer set on the crockpot, you quickly cleaned up your mess before you headed out of the kitchen towards the back porch. You then began the tedious but necessary task of checking the wards that aligned the back of your grandmother’s property; you began with the wards lining the wooden frames of the porch door and the adjacent door leading directly into the sunroom. You were prepared for the same result that happened at the front door to occur with the two entrances—and you weren’t disappointed when you found that when your magic touched the wards, it reacted the same as before.

So far, so good.

Now came the hard part.

You weren’t looking forward to walking the long expanse of your grandmother’s property; most would assume that your grandmother’s property just consisted of only the land that she had fenced in. Most would be wrong. Your grandmother’s property, as you later discovered, encompassed several _thousand_ acres of land, expanding nearly throughout the forest that surrounded the small town of Ebott. You weren’t sure exactly _how_ your ancestors managed to keep this land considering the time period or given the fact that they carried the stigmata of being _witches_. But what you did know was that your grandmother owned it, and she cared dearly for the land.

Thankfully, you only needed to worry about the wards that were the closest to the forest near the property. It was only about an acre’s worth, give or take a few feet.

(Somehow that didn’t make the task any easier on you.)

You quickly jogged to the far-left side of the property, taking care not to stray from the pathway so you didn’t step on your grandmother’s garden before you reached your destination. Without hesitation you cast your magic out, extending the wisps out to act as detectors. It was tricky finding these specific wards because they were meant to blend in with the foliage of the forest. Instead of carved runes, your grandmother had explained that they were a nest of herbs wrapped in twine and infused with her hair. _It’s always best to add a part of yourself little one,_ she had told you. _It builds a connection between yourself and your magic._

Well, that was nice and all, but finding these particular wards took time. The sun had sunk about a quarter of the way into the horizon, changing the sky into a gradient of blue, orange, and yellow. Thankfully you weren’t in danger of losing daylight, but you weren’t keen on doing this in the dark of night.

You walked the border of the property until you neared a clearing that cleaved the border in two. This clean line was a trail you frequented plenty of times as a child that went beyond the boundary of your Nana’s house. The trail led towards a small stream that you swam in as a child, then further up was a meadow that you had set your own wards of protection and claimed as your own. From there the trail ended, but there was a rough path that led up toward the summit of Mount Ebott. You never traveled there, even before you learned the truth behind the fabled legend.

Luckily, much like the wards at the cottage, your magic reacted with the tell-tale _crackle_ you had come to expect as the reaction of the wards being active. Which was a good thing because you were starting to sweat from the exertion. You weren’t used to this level of magic usage yet; and although you were building up your endurance for extended magical use, you were still a long way to reaching the same level as your grandmother. You had no doubt that if Nana were here, she would have been able to cast her magic out to reach _all_ of the wards on the property without breaking a sweat.

(You found yourself admiring her for the sheer raw talent and power it took to achieve that. How could you not? Your grandmother was _cool_ like that!)

When you heard another _crackle_ break through the silence of the forest you were taking deeper breaths than before. Your control over your breathing was the only thing keeping you from passing out, but even that endeavor was a struggle. _Just one more to check._ You thought, exhaustion causing you to pant, your walk winding to a slow gait as you approached the trail bordering the forest. It was only a couple of yards away from the house, but the effort to walk towards the area left you far more exhausted than you realized.

Sweat stung your eyes, causing you to blink rapidly and wipe the moisture away with the back of your sleeves. You were starting to regret eating so little before you started this arduous task. You were confident you could push yourself beyond your limits, but you weren’t ready to deal with the fallout. You knew that if you attempted to try— _without_ your grandmother to watch out for you in case something went awry—you would be in for a bad time.

Best not to chance it right away.

Bending over, you braced your hands upon your knees and focused on simply breathing. You let the residual coalescence of magic that charged the air filter through the air you breathed, the slow inhale and exhale of your lungs keeping you steady as you fought with the perpetual exhaustion threatening to take hold over you. You distracted yourself with a mantra to keep you grounded, your eyes staring sightlessly out towards the forest, seeing everything and nothing while you struggled to stave off your impending collapse.

_Just one more. Just one more. Just one more…_

It seemed to help. Little by little, you could feel your breathing technique help you regain enough magic for you to check the last of the wards. It would have to be enough. You could only afford that much, and with time running out, you had to wrap this up quickly. You could rest once you got back inside the house before you welcomed your grandmother home.

The thought of seeing the pride in your grandmother’s face filled you with determination.

You shoved yourself up to your full height, your hands held in front of you while you focused. A quiet breath, the slow, steady inhale brought the taste of lavender and cloves to coat the back of your teeth and tongue before you exhaled. The gathered magic bellowed in plumes of smokey, shimmering ribbons, seeking the earth and coating the ground, spreading out a few yards beyond the forest border and deep past the trail. It went on until you felt your arms begin to tremble. You felt sweat break out again and a curse expelled from your lips.

_For fuck sake **c’mon** \--!_

And then you heard it, the tell-tale _crack_ revibrating throughout the quiet forest and you laughed.

“ _Yes!_ ” You cried out hoarsely. That sound of the wards activating was all you needed to hear before you groaned in relief as you cut the flow of your magic off. You couldn’t keep yourself standing any longer and didn’t bother to try; the rush of broken laughter escaped as you collapsed on your back, the force of your fall knocking the air out of your lungs. The sensation was jarring, unpleasant, and was sure to leave you sore. You could deal with the aches. They were a testament to what you just accomplished.

You activated your grandmother’s wards _all by yourself_ with your own magic! Sure, it was probably not a good idea, and _yeah_ , you were bound to get lectured by Nana for it. But it was _worth_ it! You didn’t pass out from overexertion or throw up—that was the worst experience of your life if you were being honest thank you very much—and best of all, nothing unusual tampered with the wards! All in all, you had to say that all things considered, you did a damn good job.

It would take you a moment to gather enough energy to make the walk back to the house, but that was fine. You had time. The sun had reached a point in the sky where the colors that reminded you of yellow buttercups were receding into the beginnings of twilight. With that change, the stars would twinkle into existence one by one, winking coyly as they hung among the canvas of the night sky. You took this phenomenon with a slow, tired smile, your eyes sliding closed as you felt the cool grass against your back relax your body into a trance. You were so attuned to the earth that you felt the world turn as you laid on the ground.

Perhaps that was why felt _something_ approach you before you sat up to see what it was. Your body protested this action, causing you to groan—you only recovered enough energy just to move your limbs, so you were forced to lean against your arms. Your wrists wouldn’t thank you for the pressure put on them, but you had no choice. You had to know what you were dealing with. Wearily, you scanned the forest for any signs of the usual predators. The wards would protect you from things that intended to bring harm to you, but it wouldn’t work on an animal that would attack you as a means of self-defense. You usually worked around that loophole, but you didn’t have the strength to recalibrate the wards yet. If you were lucky, you could just spook them with a quick flare of magic, and they would run away.

You heard nothing for a while, and for a brief moment, you were starting to doubt your senses. Maybe it was a rabbit? It didn’t _feel_ threatening at least. Shrugging, you played it off as a result of your exhaustion. You heard the sound of rustling leaves in the distance and thought nothing of it. _Just a rabbit scrounging around for food._ You would see if there were any carrots in the garden you could give them later. Another rustle, this time louder. _Maybe two?_ You willed up enough energy to stand and face whatever animal was hiding within the underbrush. Pitter-patter sounds of footsteps trampling across the leafy mulch laid across the ground. A bush shivered in front of you and parted, revealing—

You felt your jaw slacken.

_What…the fuck?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder what creatures Reader encountered~? :3


	5. Fortune's Smile (Isn't as Sweet as You Think).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You encounter what you expected-- and didn't expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God.  
> This chapter. _This Chapter(tm)_. When I say that it was a doozy, I mean to say that it was a pain in the ass. By the time I had published Ch. 4, I had to rewrite this several times before I was happy with how it flowed.
> 
> This chapter is probably not going to be the longest one in this story believe it or not! While I can't guarantee that future chapters will have the same length, I know that they'll contain certain details that will be integral to the story later on down the road. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The sheer majesty and beauty of the surface left Toriel in an equal state of surprise and bliss. It was fitting, in a way, yet words failed to describe how she felt; there were so many and so few that she could catch in her mind to help encompass the state of her feelings. The monster marveled at what her eyes took in while standing beside the small gathering of friends and acquaintances. Sunlight. Golden, warm, beautiful _sunlight_. After so long of living in the cold, the dark, and the desolate caverns and ruins of the Underground, the promise of ever seeing the surface in her lifetime felt like a faraway dream. A dream she wanted to come true but held no power on her own to make it happen.

Yet now, she was wide awake, and she was standing at the summit of her former prison. The quiet ‘ _oh my_ ’ that expelled from her mouth felt like poor representation for the kaleidoscope of emotion afflicting her.

Hope. Joy. Anticipation.

 _Fear_.

The fear was what she had to keep at bay. Toriel had no need to fear anymore! The monsters were finally free, everyone could look forward to a brand-new beginning! The future was vast, as open, and wide as the very sky they stood under, an endless expanse of so many wonderful opportunities!

And she had only to thank the human child, Frisk, for making this possible.

She observed Frisk quietly from the corner of her eye while the rest acclimated to the scenery before them. The reactions from the rest of the monsters were expectantly jovial, the wonderment she easily shared while exclamations and comments resonated. Only Frisk appeared to be the odd one out with sharing the same sentiment as the rest. Toriel supposed that was to be expected: after all, they initially came from the surface. It was unfortunate they fell down and were forced to endure a perilous journey that very likely could have risked their life.

But somehow, everything turned out alright in the end. Toriel couldn’t say why, for she had no reason to believe otherwise, but a quiet part of her that suspected there was something that Frisk was hiding from them. Something that they wouldn’t—or _couldn’t_ —tell them.

Toriel’s soul fluttered unhappily at the thought. It was difficult to suppress her maternal instinct when children were involved; a byproduct of a time when, once upon a time, she had children of her own. Children that she had helped raised and nurture, that she poured all her love and pride into. Children that had been cruelly taken away from her.

There was not a day that went by that Toriel did not think about her children, even when their memory brought her a soul-deep agony that would never heal. She didn’t need to imagine Asgore living with the same pain of losing Asriel and Chara. She knew. It was something they both shared as parents after all.

Perhaps that was why Frisk gave her a renewed sense of hope and purpose. She recalled long ago, when they first met in the Ruins and their tentative but heartfelt request to call her ‘mother’. The _joy_ Toriel had felt that filled her body and warmed her soul almost rendered her speechless. Thankfully, her accord to their request came out less awkward than how she had felt. How easily attached she became when it came to Frisk was hardly a wonder; they were such a kind, _good_ child.

It seemed that even Asgore recognized these traits within Frisk. While the thought of her ex-husband having any sort of presence in Frisks (new) life at all brought trepidation and skepticism, Toriel was not blind to the effect Frisk held over the King of the Monsters.

Toriel held in a snort. She had kept her disgust concealed for the sake of Frisk, but her tolerance to Asgore’s cowed form did little to temper her feelings. Even while she stood admiring the sun’s descent and the colorful effect that brought a change upon the horizon, she could feel his gaze upon her back.

_Hmph._

Toriel ignored him, choosing instead to place her paw gently against Frisk’s tiny back. They startled at her touch before a wide, happy smile beamed up at her. She couldn’t help but mirror the same expression, for today, tomorrow and the days beyond would only become brighter now with their newfound freedom.

“I could stand here and watch this for hours…”

Toriel found that she agreed with Asgore’s quiet wonderment, as much as the sentiment made her feel at odds with herself. Nevertheless, while the thought held a romantic appeal (that she did not want to think about, especially in the presence of her _ex_ -husband thank you!), there was still so much that needed to be done.

“Yes, it is beautiful, is it not?” Toriel began softly. “But we should _really_ think about what comes next.” A subtle hint, but one that was not missed by Asgore. The ruler of the Underground knew when his ( _former_ )wife was trying to guide him to a particular avenue when it came to the governing of their people. And standing at the peak of Mount Ebott while gazing outward into the horizon was an idyllic fantasy, he also knew his people would need to make the preparations for the transition to living their new life above on the surface.

“Oh, right…”

Asgore cleared his throat and spoke, the tenor of his voice a deep and warm quality that was pleasant and commanded the attention of the rest of the group.

(Toriel stoutly _ignored_ the flutter that came when hearing that tone of voice.)

“Everyone…” he began. “This is the beginning of a bright new future. An era of peace between humans and monsters.” He then turned towards Frisk and spoke to them, an earnest quality lining their voice. “Frisk…I have something to ask of you.”

Toriel blinked before turning her head back and forth between Asgore and Frisk, a frown marring her visage. The former Queen could only guess as to what Asgore’s request was, and the element of not knowing just _what_ Asgore intended to ask of the human child— _her_ child—made her uneasy. _It’s alright,_ she thought to herself. _I’m sure it’s nothing. Asgore will probably ask Frisk for a favor, but it won’t be anything that will bring Frisk any harm—_

“Will you act as our ambassador to the humans?”

Toriel’s head shot towards Asgore, her eyes _burning_ with outrage. Of all the things to ask a child, she never imagine Asgore would have the utter _gal_ to ask _her child_ to become the ambassador for the monster race! Just what was he _thinking?!_ Toriel had a sharp retort formed upon the tip of her tongue, ready to unleash upon Asgore for daring to _suggest_ such a _ridiculous_ thing—

* _(Be the Ambassador?)_

_**[Yes]** No_

Toriel watched in abject dismay as Frisk answered with a look of determination.

* _You agree to become the ambassador for monsters._

_Asgore Dreemurr, you absolute bungler!!_

Yet as angry as she was with Asgore, she kept her objections to herself. Toriel was not the sort of monster to allow her emotions get in the way of what was important; yes, _objectively_ it was in the best interests of monsterkind to have a liaison to mitigate their arrival upon the surface. Toriel knew as did Asgore that humanity had forgotten their existence, and with that came an element of uncertainty. Having a _human_ to mediate between the two races was beneficial for their kind. It was the wisest choice that Asgore could have possibly hoped for, and likely the _only_ option available that would have helped the monsters.

But from her perspective as a mother, Toriel protested Frisk’s involvement. As far as she was concerned, Frisk had already done _more_ than enough to help. They deserved the peace and quiet of living their life as a normal human child. What right did Asgore have to burden them with the responsibility of ensuring that their kind was given the best life possible? Toriel could find no immediate alternative that was best suited for the task but—it should _not_ have to be Frisk to take on the mantle!

 _They’re only a child!_ Her mind cried out in protest before her face twisted, fighting to keep herself composed. The feeling of defeat filled Toriel and made her form slump with sadness. This was not a path she had wanted for Frisk. This was not the _life_ she wanted Frisk to have. Yet as loathed as Toriel was to admit, there _was_ no one else to take Frisk’s place. Even if there was someone that could fulfill the role, it would have to be another monster (one monster that came to mind was Papyrus as a viable alternative, which was a better choice in her opinion), which may not win over the more…hostile members of humanity.

A renewed sense of rage filled Toriel, its fire protective and passionate in origin. As incensed as she felt towards Asgore for putting Frisk in this difficult position, she would be damned if she would allow Frisk to venture down this path alone. She could not stop her child from pursuing this path, but they would have all the support available to them.

Toriel was determined to give Frisk them the life that they deserved.

One by one, their friends left the group to venture down the mountain. Toriel paid them little mind until only Asgore remained. An awkward tension settled between the two monsters, one so thick and heavy that it was reminiscent of butterscotch. Asgore appeared all but lost and seemed unsure what to do with himself. Toriel nearly rolled her eyes. _Don’t you have anything better to do, Dreemurr?_

“Whoops.” He chuckled, his paw lifting to rub the back of his head. “Uh, should I do something?”

“…”

The look Toriel shot Asgore could have melted rocks; her displeasure hard to suppress given the edict the King placed upon their human ambassador. Asgore had the presence of mind to make himself scarce, to which he hastily retreated down the mountain with a parting “Well, gotta go!” before leaving just Frisk and herself at the summit.

Toriel heaved a sigh before turning around to face Frisk. “It seems that everyone is quite eager to set off.” She remarked. “I must admit, I too share the same sentiment. However…Frisk…you came from this world, right…?”

And there came her fear.

It was inevitable, she supposed. Surely the human had their own family to return to. Parents that were worried sick over their missing child. _Of course,_ Toriel understood. She was a mother, after all. And as attached as she became over Frisk…she would have to let them go. It was the right thing to do. Of course, she would still protect them, she had resolved herself to that task, but if they had family, then…well…

It would be best if they returned to where they belonged…right…?

“So…you must have a place to return to…do you not?” Toriel asked. “What will you do now?”

For a long moment, Frisk appeared thoughtful. Toriel stood and patiently waited, prepared for the inevitable: that Frisk would leave ( _again_ ) to return to their human family, who must have been _so worried_. Toriel could scarcely imagine how they would react to their child being essentially titled as a liaison to a race of monsters, but Toriel was confident that if she spoke to them, they would see that they meant humans no harm--

* _You told Toriel you wanted to stay with her._

“What?” Toriel blurted out, dumbfounded. _I don’t understand._

Frisk stared up at Toriel, their soulful gaze shining, and she felt it again. Their answer echoing inside her soul, as true and sincere as their character stood before her.

* _ **You told Toriel you wanted to stay with her.**_

“Frisk…you…you really are a funny child,” She remarked weakly, her mouth curling into an emotional smile. “If you had said that earlier, none of this would have happened.”

 _But I am glad that you did not stay,_ she thought with a careful thumb sweeping the tears that peeked at the edges of her eyes. _If you had stayed, we would not have been freed. We would never see the sun or the surface…_

It was good that Frisk had left the Ruins. Toriel was certain it was the best decision—for both of them.

“It is a good thing that you took so long to change your mind.” Toriel laughed. She looked upon her small child fondly before taking a step closer.

“Well…I suppose…if you really do not have any other place to go…I will do my best to take care of you, for as long as you need. All right?”

Frisk gave a nod and a smile.

“Now, come along.” Toriel said cheerfully reaching for their hand to hold gently with their paw. “Everyone is waiting for us!”

Frisk gripped Toriel’s paw and took the first few steps towards the trail leading down the mountain. They didn’t go far before Frisk heard the sound of familiar footfall scamper down the opposite end of the summit. Frisk could just barely make out the familiar figures of the monsters from the Ruins before they disappeared down the trail.

Frisk stopped, halting their footsteps and causing Toriel to pause. She glanced over her shoulder curiously, her concern apparent in her tone as she called for Frisk’s attention.

“Frisk…what is wrong, my child?”

Rather than answer, they shook their head before pointing at the other trail leading down the mountain. Toriel’s gaze followed to where they pointed, squinting their eyes to search for what Frisk was indicating. “What—"

Suddenly their hand slipped out of Toriel’s paw, startling the monster. For a moment Toriel was struck dumb before her maternal instincts kicked in. Shaking herself out of her confusion, Toriel called after Frisk, who ran down the trail ahead of her, forcing her to scramble to catch up to the little human.

“Frisk! Wait—!”

* * *

You closed your eyes for a good ten seconds before opened them, just to see if your mind wasn’t playing a trick on you—nope, the creatures were still there. You weren’t sure what you were expecting. Certainly not…whatever had emerged from the brush. Disbelief aside, you attempted to process what your eyes perceived while your brain tried to connect and associate your vision with a familiar likeness that you could understand.

For a moment, you thought this was a dream; that you had passed out from overexertion and this was your mind’s way of shaking their metaphorical finger at you for expending more magic than you had. _See? This is what happens when you go beyond your limits, now you get brain damage!_ Hah. Yes, that _must_ be it. After all, what sane person could look at these things and think ‘ah yes, this is a totally normal thing I am seeing, nothing to worry about’. Uh, _no_? You couldn’t claim _you_ were normal, but you definitely could say that what you were seeing was _not_ normal by conventional standards either!

Okay, you were freaking out—and unfortunately, this was too real to be a dream. That’s okay—you were dealing with this the best you could. If you were slightly _panicking_ , then that was fine! That was a totally _normal_ reaction after all.

Cool.

For now, you put your existential crisis on pause for a hot second while you observed the two creatures before you.

The first one looked like a child-sized…frog? It looked like one at least. You noted that it had two faces: a face below where their feet were, and a normal frog-head. You weren’t sure where to look while facing this creature, so you moved on to the creature beside the frog instead.

The second creature looked like a poor imitation of a costumed ghost you had seen children dress up as for Halloween. It even added its own creative spin to their costume with little antennas and wings on its back. Their face seemed in a perpetual state of misery, with tears welling in their eyes while they quivered behind the frog’s form. The scene would have been adorable if you weren’t so unsettled. Here you were, having just expanded nearly all your magic after checking on the wards and suddenly _two_ creatures appeared from the forest? It was too suspicious.

Before your mind could supplement you with an explanation, a sudden thought hit you—of course! It’s _Halloween_! Kids were bound to find your property at some point for their traditional chant and expected treat. The cottage was way out in the sticks, but you still had _some_ neighbors...who were miles apart...

(But still! You had neighbors!)

(Subconsciously, you knew that this excuse felt weak, but your mind refused to acknowledge the truth. You weren’t _ready_ to face it. Denying what was in front of you was easier. _Safer_. Because the alternative—no. It _couldn’t_ be.)

(Maybe if you ignored it, it will go away.)

( _Somehow you doubted that._ )

 _Clearly_ , these were just kids that got lost in the woods while trick-or-treating and took a wrong turn. Well then! That certainly put _some_ of your anxiety at ease (it didn’t). You could sympathize—you would be a little turned around too if you were walking around the forest if you weren’t already acquainted with the terrain. Luckily, your phone reception was decent so far from town, so all you had to do was call their parents and they could come get them. Easy-peasy!

Up until now, you noticed that they didn't say anything. They just stood silently while watching you watch them. You wondered if these kids( ~~creatures~~ ) got lost in the woods. That was a common theme with Mount Ebott, so you could understand if they were a little spooked. You shifted your body from its sitting position, using your arms to push off the ground and climb up until you were standing weakly on your feet. You wobbled, your stance a little unsteady but you managed to face them before giving the two kid-creatures a weak smile.

“Hey there,” you uttered, bending over to brush the grass off your butt before facing them. “you kids lost? D’you need--”

A frightened whimper emanated from the ghost-kid at the same time as the frog-kid let out a startled ribbit (wait _what--???_ ) as their eyes swiveled up at your face. You couldn’t quite make out their expression and sought to reassure them. You lifted your hands in front of your body, an action that resembled one that calmed a frightened animal, your voice pitched low so as not to frighten them any further.

“It’s alright,” You assured them gently. “I’m not gonna hurt you--"

The next sequence of events made your whole world tilt. The best way to describe what happened to you felt like you were tugged forward, yet your body stood completely still. The edges of your vision faded to black, your surroundings plunged in a monochromatic world of black and white. No color could be seen, yet the most noticeable thing that drew your gaze was what floated parallel to your sternum.

A little heart, like the kind you saw on charms or toys, floated gently in front of you and was no bigger than your palm; its movement reminding you of an idle animation sequence usually found in video games. You latched onto the familiar association while you struggled to understand what was happening to you. As you observed, you moved your arms out to bring your hands close to your chest; you were compelled to gather the tiny heart close to you, to protect it from any dangers that it would encounter. Somehow you felt like it was important.

As if listening to your desire, it glowed brighter in response and you gasped. It seemed to flutter happily at your attention. Not quite what you were expecting in this situation, but you didn’t mind. This discovery did little to quell the return of your panic, but it was a side thought you latched onto to keep yourself from freaking out.

That is until you looked up.

“What the _fuck?!_ ”

( _Well, that didn’t last long._ )

Your gaze landed on the black and white figures before you—who you were starting to realize _weren’t_ children dressed up as a frog or a ghost. You swallowed the lump in your throat as the next thought built to fruition, one that you didn’t dare yourself to think. But now, you were faced with a reality you couldn’t avoid any longer.

These weren’t little kids dressed as monsters going trick-or-treat for Halloween.

These were _real_ _monsters_.

A tide of dizziness washed through you and left you reeling with the turmoil of your thoughts and emotions. However, you could barely process _that_ revelation when you noticed something within your peripheral vision. Once again, you were reminded of the mechanics of a battle sequence that were common in roleplaying video games. It was almost _eerie_ how this situation you found yourself in had evoked a sense of familiarity to you, despite the potential danger you were in.

Which oddly enough, you found yourself to be waiting for something. You nearly expected a tutorial to pop up, but no. You were entirely on your own to figure out this whole thing. Great. Not ideal, but you could work with this. You looked closely at the two monsters, focusing on their movements while you struggled to gather your bearings.

As if sensing what you were trying to do, a scrawl of text suddenly appeared before your eyes, hovering like a menu:

* _Froggit and Whimsun drew near!_

Okay. At least you knew that these monsters had names. You scanned the options before you curiously. There were four glowing buttons with capitalized text: FIGHT, ACT, ITEM, and MERCY. You didn’t have any trouble guessing what the function of each button was for (you played plenty of video games, so you had some idea thank you!).

Now the question was what were you supposed to do?

You considered the options laid before you. Your first choice was to choose MERCY, yet the button to Spare them was greyed out. _Shit._ You thought before backtracking to the beginning. You glanced briefly at the FIGHT button, consideringly, before ignoring it entirely. You didn't want to fight them-- and even then, your magic was too low to be able to defend yourself. So you chose to ACT.

Your hand reached for the ACT button and the menu displayed the names of the monsters. You clicked on Froggit and several options appeared: Check, Threaten and Compliment. You decided to Check Froggit first, which changed the menu to display what appeared to be Froggit’s stats.

> * FROGGIT – ATK 4 DEF 5
> 
> * **Professional Frog**

_Oh, my heart…_ You cooed internally—yes! They were!! They were certainly the froggiest (was that a word? You didn’t know, but you didn’t really care either) frog that ever did frog. Before you allowed yourself to become distracted however, you looked at the buttons. Instead of orange, the glow of the buttons dimmed to grey, which you assumed as your turn ending. _Okay._ You thought. _I definitely know what ‘ATK’ and ‘DEF’ are. Now what?_

You waited a beat for something to happen while the monsters continued to cower before you. You frowned, uncomfortable at the thought of possibly frightening these monsters. You couldn’t see whether they had the same options as you did from your position, so you could only assume that they were ‘checking’ you back. You hoped that they knew that you didn’t mean to scare them. If anything, they surprised the hell out of you!

It’s now your turn, so you decide to press the ACT button to Check on Whimsun—the poor thing looks like a slight breeze would knock it over with how it shivered in fear.

> * WHIMSUN – ATK 5 DEF 0
> 
> * **Braver Every Day**

You had to smile at that. Considering what they likely endured, it was fair to say that they had a lot of courage in taking what was likely their first steps into the outside world. You supposed that they were brave for facing something new. You commended them of that at least—they deserved to take pride in their accomplishment after all!

With that, your turn ended, and you waited to see what they would do next.

The monsters seemed to calm down the more you waited for them to complete their turn. They seemed to be conversing amongst themselves quietly because you couldn’t hear exactly what they said, but they didn’t appear to be plotting to attack you. You were thankful for that at least. After a brief moment, you heard the Froggit speak.

“Ribbit, ribbit.”

* _Froggit wants to know who you are._

You blinked.

“Me?” You replied dumbly. “Uh…sorry—” You hastily gave them your name. “But uh, you can call me Eve, I guess. S’what my Nana sometimes calls me.” You didn’t mean to overshare that particular bit of information, but the Froggit didn’t appear bothered by your ineptness. This time when your turn came again, you chose the ‘Compliment’ option.

“I like your name, by the way! It’s very cute!” You said genuinely. To your immense delight, Froggit blushed.

“Ribbit, ribbit.” It replied, and though you heard them, you saw the text above their head translate what they were saying.

* _Froggit is flattered by your compliment._

You grinned happily. “You’re welcome!”

With your turn done, you waited for Froggit to finish their turn before your turn came again. This time the text changed with an indication of what to do:

* _Froggit seems reluctant to fight you._

This time the text displayed their name in yellow, providing you with the option to Spare or Flee from them. You clicked on the Spare button and smiled. _Okay,_ you thought somewhat confidently. _Now it’s your turn Whimsun!_ You turned to Whimsun, making sure to gentle your approach so that you didn’t frighten it needlessly. You read the text above Whimsun and felt your expression grow fond.

* _Whimsun approached meekly!_

It gave you hope while you went through the same sequence with them as you did with Froggit. Selecting the ‘console’ option, you slowly knelt until you were eye-level with them.

“It’s alright,” You said. “I swear that I’m not going to hurt you. I’m sorry if I scared you—I didn’t mean to.” You added, a bit wistfully.

Whimsun appeared to take your words to heart. Their shivering slowly stopped until they appeared to flutter in suspended animation. When it was their turn, like Froggit, they chose to talk with you.

* _Whimsun accepts your apology and apologizes for startling you._

“Oh no!” You blurted out. “You didn’t—you don’t need to apologize, that was on me—I mean, it was kinda rude of me to stare at you guys like that?” You rubbed your neck nervously as you let your apology trail off quietly. Your turn came again, and you didn’t hesitate to select the Spare option for Whimsun.

As soon as you chose to spare Whimsun, the world receded back to its colorful origin, and much to your relief, the sun still retained its yellow twilight. You noted that the tiny heart in front of your chest was gone and felt its loss keenly. While you weren’t eager to repeat an encounter as you had with the monsters, you wished you could have more time to learn about the heart. Something about it just… _spoke_ to you in a way that you couldn’t really explain.

For now, you put the encounter behind you. In your kneeling position, you looked between the two monsters and spoke in the same gentle manner.

“So…I know I’m kinda late asking this,” You managed awkwardly. “But you guys are…” You suddenly stopped. You already knew the answer to this question, but you wanted to know with absolute certainty that you weren’t dreaming this. Or that you were suffering from a potential aneurysm. You _needed_ to be sure. “…you’re monsters…right?”

“Y-yes…” spoke the Whimsun, their voice whisper-thin that you had to strain yourself to hear them. Louder, they continued. “We came from underground, deep within the mountain. But now we’re free. The barrier that sealed us is gone!”

“Ribbit, ribbit.” Chimed the Froggit, and this time you understood what they said.

(“It’s all thanks to the human.”)

“Human?”

At their nod, you could only stare with numb shock. The revelation has your heart is pounding against your ribcage, the violence of it ringing loudly in your ears. You felt hope and apprehension for the child that you never met. _They're alive._ They didn’t fall to their tragic death—nor (much to your apparent shame) had the monsters killed them for revenge against humans for their wrongful imprisonment. The monsters must have helped them and somehow— _somehow_ , they managed to break the barrier that trapped the monsters underground!

Oh man. This was _a lot_ to take in.

You merely sat there, allowing yourself time to process this new information. Froggit and Whimsun didn’t seem bothered by how shocked you were. They were content by their surroundings, their heads swiveling in all directions as if they were trying to commit the scenery of your grandmother’s forest to memory. Their actions were endearing to you, so you said nothing.

For a while, you just…let yourself feel. Excitement. Surprise. Hesitation. You identified each sensation with a brief sense of detachment, a meager attempt to keep yourself from becoming overwhelmed. Because it was one thing to listen to the stories that your grandmother told as a fascinated participant. After all, as a child, you believed the legend was a story to set you to sleep with dreams of magic and monsters to carry you through the night. You could continue through life unaffected because her story was just that: a story.

It was an entirely different matter to realize that the truth that your grandmother revealed to you so long ago was _real_. You were quite _literally_ staring at the very creatures that were a part of her story. Of course, you _believed_ your grandmother was telling the truth but _hearing_ it and _seeing_ it were two different things entirely.

(You felt you needed to apologize to your grandmother for doubting her. And speaking of your grandmother…)

You pulled your phone out of your pocket, noting the time: 5:25 pm. Well, it appeared that your grandmother was coming home to quite a surprise. You couldn’t even _imagine_ how she would react to the news. You debated texting her, but you dismissed the thought. It was better that she saw for herself the evidence of your discovery.

Pocketing your phone back in your jacket, you rose to a standing position, already feeling the exertion that lingered already receding back to a manageable level. You would need to eat, but you could wait a little while. You cast your eyes to your companions and smiled.

“Well,” you began. “Seeing as this is your first time seeing the surface and all, please allow me to welcome you.” Then with a grandiose flourish, you stepped closer and flung your arms out wide with an ecstatic grin.

“Welcome to the Surface!”

You heard happy croaks and titters and couldn’t help but laugh along with their revelry. As strange as this evening began, you couldn’t say you hated it. You remembered your initial impression of monsters, (in general at least) from when you were young; of how you were clouded by childish wonder and fascination and how unfair that opinion was given the current circumstances. But so far, you could say that monsters weren’t what you expected. Your grandmother’s recount of their character was fairly close to the stories you had heard. You wouldn’t judge monsters for a few errant actions that most committed, at the very least, but you definitely found them to be good.

(It certainly helped that they were cute, for starters!)

You found you wanted to get to know them, and began asking them basic questions: did they have a name or were they called by a different moniker? What were their pronouns? By their twin looks of wonder, it was apparent to you that you were the first person to ever ask this. _Maybe monsters just **know** automatically?_ You were pretty sure it had to do with their magic, but you certainly were no expert with monster culture. Luckily, they answered your questions amicably and seemed eager to ask you the same. You answered them, excited to share what you knew with open honesty.

At one point you pulled out your phone and played a song to signify the occasion. For a moment you danced with Froggit and Whimsun, content with the newfound friends you made and almost forgetting your exhaustion. Your stomach yowled out and you laughed, joined by your new companions who shared your revelry.

You found that you didn’t want this moment to end. You wanted to spend more time with them, so you decided to extend an invitation to dinner.

“Hey uh, since this is a celebration, would you two like to share a meal with me and my grandmother?” You figured the offer wouldn’t hurt. Who would say that they had monsters join their dinner table for stew? You jerked your thumb behind your shoulder towards the back of the cottage. “If you’re hungry, I’ve got some food back at my house, and it isn’t very far.” You offered.

“O-oh that’s very kind of you.” The Whimsun spoke, their wings fluttering behind them in a steady rhythm. They seemed to prefer to stay close to Froggit, who they looked to with a considering tilt of their head. Froggit appeared thoughtful and looked up at you with an unreadable expression.

“Ribbit. Ribbit, ribbit.”

(“We appreciate your hospitality human and thank you for your warm welcome. But we must go back to the Underground.”)

“Oh?” Puzzled, you shifted your weight to one side of your hip, your pose easy. “Did you forget something?”

“W-we may have…snuck out ahead to explore.” This time the Whimsun answered, appearing abashed at their admission. It reminded you of kids getting caught sneaking out past curfew. “W-we were supposed to w-wait to hear back from our King, but—”

A noise was heard deep in the forest made you tense, leaving the rest of Whimsun’s words to trail into disquiet as you felt someone make their way through the forest. The bushes shivered with movement as another form approached the clearing. A glance around the wards assured you that whatever was approaching the clearing wasn’t dangerous, so you relaxed the tension in your shoulders. You were ready to greet them with warm words of welcome, believing them to be another monster (maybe they got separated from Froggit and Whimsun?) when the words stilled in your throat.

The sight of the eighth fallen child emerging from the underbrush rendered you breathless, and for a moment the world felt still. An overwhelming rush of _relief_ nearly knocked the breath from you, reminding you once again, that you weren’t mourning a victim of tragic circumstances. That the prayer you said unto the universe wasn’t unheeded but was heard!

You wanted to cry. You nearly did, in fact. The only thing holding your tears at bay was that you were certain it would have been awkward for them to see a young woman suddenly burst into tears. It wouldn’t have made a very good first impression, so with a herculean effort, you swallowed back your emotions and waited for them to approach.

You noted their appearance with a critical eye; their description matched the missing child poster you kept. They looked no older than ten years of age, a crop cut of brown hair that hid their face and clothes that gave them an ambiguous presentation. Though the physical aspects detailing the child matched what you vaguely remembered, looking at them now, you knew with absolute certainty that it was _them_. They were a little scraped up, a little worn down perhaps (and maybe it was just you, but they looked so _tired_ ), but they were healthy and _alive_.

As soon as they saw you and the monsters, they appeared taken aback. Their gaze landed on you, then back to the monsters, a look of what you thought was _panic_ flickered across their face before they approached your little gathering without hesitation, passing through the threshold of the wards unscathed until they stood a few feet in front of you. You couldn’t make out their expression, but you had a faint impression that you were being judged. It didn’t offend you—you only stood and let them stare. They seemed to contemplate the scene they stumbled upon before they spoke—and like with Froggit, they spoke directly to your soul.

_*They ask you if you’re okay._

You blinked.

At your silence, their expression quickly began to lose their calm demeanor. They shuffled their feet against the ground and looked between you and the monsters. They opened their mouth as if they were about to speak, but then they stopped. They appeared unsure while they looked at you before they started waving their hands in the air, the gestures vaguely familiar to you. It took you a moment before you realized that they were using sign language. By then you felt utterly embarrassed.

“I-I’m sorry, I can’t—I don't understand?” You looked between Froggit and Whimsun, feeling lost while they looked between you and the child, looking just as bewildered as you felt. Great. You were on your own. _Shit._ “Um maybe—” You pulled up your phone and showed it to them. “Would texting help?” You asked awkwardly.

To your immense relief, their expression brightened, and they took out what looked like a relic of your mothers’ childhood, which was the chunkiest looking phone you had ever saw. _Nokia’s got nothing on that thing_. You thought belatedly. They walked toward you with their phone out, and you read the message displayed on the tiny screen:

> _Are you alright?_

“Huh? _Oh_ —! Oh yeah, I’m okay!” You could have smacked yourself in the face for how _stupid_ you sounded. “Sorry, I was just…” _Trying not to bawl because you’re not dead—hmm, no, wait, that’s too weird shit…fuck—how to put this delicately…_ “I was talking with these monsters—” _Nice._ “--er, sorry, Froggit, and Whimsun? Anyways, I was about to invite them for dinner, but they said they had to go back to the Underground—”

They began typing again.

> _And you’re not…afraid of them?_

“Oh no!” You responded automatically. “No, to be honest, I’m past the point of fear. A little overwhelmed with all this information I’ve come to realize is actually happening and kinda feel like I’m about to pass out—plus I haven’t had a proper meal since I woke up this morning, but all that aside, I’m good.” Yep. Nailed it. You shot them a helpless smile before you laughed. “Sorry. It’s been a long day for me. I’m sure you probably feel the same, huh?”

They nodded, the look on their face easing a few degrees before they began texting on their phone, this time their expression morphing into a shy one.

> _Would you like to exchange numbers?_

“Oh absolutely!” You agreed happily, quickly handing them your phone for them to put their number in. When they returned it, you saw a new contact with their number typed in. You quickly saved the number. While you looked at your phone, they turned towards the two monsters, who up until now were simply watching their exchange with rapt attention—and you heard them speak, not with their own voice, but from within.

* _They ask Froggit and Whimsun if they’re okay._

“We’re okay Frisk!”

Frisk.

 _So **that’s** their name._ You thought, making sure to save their number as ‘Frisk’. It saved you the trouble of asking for their name at least, since from what you could tell, Frisk seemed to have trouble speaking using their voice. You didn’t know if that was a result of something traumatic that happened or if that was just their preference, but you felt bad for not responding sooner. You made a point to remember to apologize at some point.

“Ribbit, ribbit! (We were so excited that we couldn’t wait to see the surface. But now we need to head back so that our families won’t worry.)”

“Oh, well yeah! That makes sense.” You mused and you noticed Frisk stare at you with wonder. “You should tell them everything that you saw!”

“W-we will!” chimed the Whimsun. “We will tell them about you, human, and how kind you have been.”

“Aww.” Touched by how sweet these monsters were, your cheeks flushed with warmth. “Thank you!”

Frisk started typing into their phone frantically before showing their screen to you. _Wait._ _You can understand them?_

“Oh uh—yes?” You answered uncertainly. “I mean, I know this is gonna sound strange, but I feel like I can hear them with my soul.” To emphasize what you meant, you placed a hand atop your chest. “I could hear you too, actually.” Your expression went sheepish. “Sorry I didn’t answer you sooner—I was a little surprised is all.”

“Oh!” They breathed, and you could see their eyes widen in realization—what they were excited about you weren’t really sure about but before you could ask, another voice called from the forest.

“Frisk? Is that you?”

This time you heard the frantic parting of leaves emanate deep within the forest; the approach of heavier footsteps trudged along the trail heading towards the clearing of your growing group. _Oh boy._ You thought wearily, straining to hear the informative alarm of the wards surrounding the clearing, only to find no sound came to you. _Not hostile_ , you realized with some measure of relief. Nevertheless, you braced yourself for what you were sure was bound to be another encounter, you took a deep breath—

And felt your lungs woosh out a startled gasp at the sight that emerged from the forest foliage.

“There you are! My child, you must not… _oh_!”

You swallowed the expletive that bubbled in your throat as you gaped at the anthropomorphic goat-monster before you. Here you thought your day couldn’t get any more bizarre, yet you were proven wrong! You were pretty sure that by the time your grandmother came home, you would look like you aged several years from the shock you’ve experienced within the past few hours. Shaking out of your initial surprise, you took the time to carefully study the newest monster that approached you.

To their immense credit, they didn’t appear offended by your rude stare—in fact, they seemed just as entranced by you as you were of them. You took in their appearance, from the tiny horns atop their furry head and small fangs protruding from their mouth to their attire of long purple robes and bare feet—and felt yourself relax. Even as they stood beside Frisk, who easily dwarfed your grandmother in height, the monster’s demeanor was calm and gentle despite their enormous size.

“Hello!” greeted the feminine sounding monster. “I am Toriel. I am pleased to make your acquaintance human.”

 _Cute!_ You cooed inwardly as you felt yourself glow with warmth. She was _adorable_!

“Hi!” You managed to stammer out your name while you stuck your hand out. “But you can call me Eve!”

To your immense delight, Toriel beamed and reached out to take your hand, her paw ( _which felt_ incredibly _soft oh my god so **cute!!**_ ) enveloping your whole hand to give it a gentle squeeze before releasing you.

“Eve…what a lovely name.” She said warmly, and you had to resist the urge to wiggle in pleasure. You were a little alarmed with yourself by how strongly you reacted to Toriel’s presence; it wasn’t _bad_ necessarily per se, but it was one that you recognized keenly. A sensation that you only ever felt when you were within your grandmother’s presence. Before you could explore this feeling any further, Toriel spoke again, this time addressing Froggit and Whimsun.

“I trust that you two made a good first-impression upon Eve?”

 _Oh boy_. You cast a look at the smaller monsters, who appeared visibly intimidated by Toriel’s piercing gaze. You knew that their answer would not have made Toriel happy and you didn’t want Froggit or Whimsun to be scolded for something that wasn’t their fault.

“They did!” You rushed to say, shooting them an assuring look before you smiled up at Toriel, who looked back at you with surprise. “I mean, I’ll admit we started off a little…unsteady, but it was my fault. I startled them and…I guess they reacted in defense?” You hesitated before you continued. “But I’m not hurt or anything! Everything’s okay-- we’re okay now.”

“I see.” Toriel appeared to mull quietly over your explanation and her gaze seemed to pierce you—as if looking past your physical form and straight into your soul. You were mildly concerned and looked to Frisk to indicate whether you should be worried. From their demeanor, they appeared at ease and you felt yourself relax slightly. Whatever she found must have reassured her before she turned and looked back to the two monsters. “Well…I suppose as long as no one was hurt, then there is no harm done, yes?”

“Y-yes!” squeaked the Whimsun, and your heart clenched at the nervousness infecting their tone of voice. “W-we were just about t-to head back before the King returned, Toriel!”

Something about what the Whimsun said earlier stuck to you, filling you with a rapid sense of nervousness. “Wait-- when you say ‘King’…you mean like, _King_ of the Underground, right?”

“Oh yes!” Whimsun replied, oblivious to the sudden impending sense of dread you felt.

“I believe it would be best then that you return back to your families,” Toriel stated gently. From how she addressed the other monsters, you got the impression that she held a position of authority. “Once the King and the Ambassador have negotiated with the human officials,” She then looked to you, which surprised you, but you nodded nevertheless. “It will be decided when everyone else can leave the Underground.”

Both Froggit and Whimsun nodded before they looked at you.

“Goodbye for now, Eve!”

“Ribbit! (Goodbye Friend Eve!)”

“Be careful you guys! See you later!” You called after them with a wave, watching as they hopped and fluttered along the trail leading back up the mountain. You continued to watch until they disappeared in the thicket of the forest and the sound of their footsteps receded with their leave. At that point, your phone suddenly chimed with the familiar sound of your grandmother’s ringtone. “Oh! Sorry—that’s my phone.” You explained as you fished your phone out of your pocket. "It must be Nana..." You muttered, glancing at the message.

> **Nana <3:** I'm almost home. Be seeing you soon! <3 -Nana

The time read 5:45 pm.

“Oh sh—crap.” You corrected mid-curse, shooting a look at Frisk before you smiled apologetically at Toriel. “Um, I know this is kinda random, but would your King and Ambassador like to have dinner with me and my Nana?” You hedged out, already sounding silly for offering the King of monsters and their Ambassador a seat at your grandmother's dinner table. Geez...

“I mean, I'm sure that they’re probably busy, but—”

“We would be delighted to join you for dinner Eve,” Toriel replied with a smile. “However, I am afraid I do not have a way of contacting the King.” You noted that when Toriel mentioned the King, her expression seemed to turn sour. _Oof. Note to self: the King's a sore subject._ You thought to yourself.

To your surprise, Frisk merely smiled before they started texting on their phone. You watched with open fascination as Frisk typed on their phone in rapid succession that made you almost proud before they shot you a grin. Your phone chimed and you saw what Frisk sent you:

> **Frisk:** _Asgore’s heading over right now._

“Who’s Asgore?”

It was as if the universe’s smile widened to shit-eating proportions; no sooner than the words left your mouth, you felt a disturbance of magic ring in your ears, no louder than a wind chime. You looked around frantically for the source of the disturbance, panic clear in your eyes as you tasted magic that reminded you of sweet-smelling flowers and tea that you couldn’t place the flavor of. The pleasantness of this magic surprised you, betraying the fact that it nearly distracting you from the approaching thunderous footsteps that emanated from the trail deep within the forest.

This time, you didn’t bother trying to censor yourself you let out a startled curse to the new arrival.

“ _Holy shit_!!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader now has a nickname! I'm sticking with 'Eve' because when I initially wrote this, the name kinda stuck to me. But more importantly!! She's about to finally meet the rest of the gang! There will be tension! Drama! Japes! Puns! And...anime references?
> 
> Stay tuned for more! :3


	6. Encounters of Many Kinds.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You invite your guests for dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest, at first I was not 100% happy with this chapter. But I figure at some point I'll either go back and edit it or re-write the whole thing, but for now I'm content with how this flowed. I need to remind myself that perfection is a state of mind and not something to stress over!
> 
> (That's hard for me to remember but still!! I try!! :') )
> 
> Enjoy!

The arrival of _this_ particular monster renewed your anxiety, causing it to climb higher and higher the longer you watched them trudged along the trail towards your small gathering. From a distance, you could hardly make out their form, as the thick forest overgrowth obscured them in shadow. Their approach was met with ease as measured, heavy footsteps trudged along the trail, passing through the wards (yet again inactive) bordering the forest with no resistance, until at last they broke through the tree line and stepped within your line of sight.

He was another anthropomorphic goat-monster like Toriel, in the sense that they were the same type of monster. However, that was where the similarities ended, for you discerned based on their appearance that they were male, and _very_ large.

Your earlier expletive was right on the nose-- holy _shit_ were they _big_. You had to crane your neck back to gaze at their face, although you had enough time to take in their form before they ambled easily towards your small gathering.

There was no mistaking who this monster was; even if the sight of their purple cape and gold pauldrons they wore didn’t give away their status, the golden crown that nestled between their curved horns was a glaringly obvious suggestion of their strength. You distinctly heard the clank and scrape of metal as they moved closer to the clearing, a detail that you recognized as armor.

As you took in their soft demeanor, it became clear to you that this monster was no less prepared to enact violence if it was necessary. You realized with nervous clarity as he came closer towards you that you did _not_ want to encounter this monster in a fight if you could help it. You wanted to give him no reason to have to fight you.

Even without their armor and crown, the sheer magnitude of the magical aura you felt from him almost had your knees buckling from the pressure; the weight of their presence alone seemed to settle and surrounded you like a heavy blanket, nearly smothering you. Not even the power that your grandmother exuded made you this nervous. Your breathing deepened in a bid to remain composed. Sweat dotted the back of your neck as you struggled to keep your eyes upon their face. This was a danger you acknowledged, and you stood looking at them unwaveringly until they finally ceased their footsteps.

The King of the Underground stopped a few feet before you and you took in the sight of them wearily. In all the stories your grandmother told of the leader of the monsters prickled at your mind, you couldn’t quite recall your Nana ever mentioning what his temperament was towards the witches. You only knew that witches had allied themselves with the monsters during the war, but that was _hundreds_ of years ago. Would monsters even remember? _Were_ there monsters that had survived that long? You didn’t know—and _that_ scared the shit out of you. You were beginning to believe that this situation would become very dangerous for you if you didn’t act quickly.

That was a crucial piece of information, given that the only difference that separated between you and a common mage, was that you did not wield your magic _against_ monsterkind. You wracked your mind desperately to remember if the King was a monster of benevolence or malevolence, but the knowledge skittered unhelpfully along the edge of your memory.

Of all times for information from your Nana’s story to vanish from your mind, it had to be at a crucial moment when you _actually_ needed it!

The panic that warred within you did not show on your face. With a great act of will, you gazed into the eyes of the monster and smiled up at them, in what you hoped was a friendly expression. In the back of your mind, you prayed that whoever the Ambassador the King chose left a big enough impression that you could greet them without fear of any hostile reaction. You took a deep breath and opened your mouth to speak, but the King seemed eager to offer their own greeting.

“Howdy!”

Oh. Well, you weren’t expecting that.

Just like that, the tension that built inside you suddenly drained out of you like a sieve. You blinked while you attempted to process the unexpected twang of the southern drawl that boomed from the giant monster’s chest. Hearing the friendly, easy tone from such an imposing figure caught you off guard, leaving you to flounder in an attempt for some semblance of protocol. It wasn’t every day you met royalty, let alone the _ruler_ of all monsters, so understandably, you were at a loss. Yet despite your uncertainty, the deep tenor of his salutation echoed inside your soul, the quality of his voice settling around you with a familiarity that left you at ease.

(You were starting to wonder if this was part of his magic or personality. You weren’t sure whether you were comfortable with how affected you were by their mere presence, but you stood vigil regardless.)

( ~~Even if it unlocked a deep longing you refused to acknowledge.~~ )

“Do not be afraid human,” As if spurred by your silence, Asgore spoke with tempered softness while crouching to your eye level, so that your neck was no longer craned back. “I mean you no harm. I am Asgore Dreemurr, former King of the Underground and Ruler of all monsterkind.”

“Oh…er…sorry,” Rubbing the back of your neck, you flushed red with embarrassment. You felt you should at least apologize for cursing earlier—you seemed to be doing that a lot today. Not that you could hardly be _blamed_ for it, but still, it was rather _rude_ and in poor manners on your end. You wanted to make a decent impression after all. Feeling the echo of your Nana’s lecture begin to crawl up your spine, you quickly added. “…it’s good to meet you King Asgore.”

Asgore laughed. “That’s quite alright. I imagine this must be a shock for you.”

“Kinda, yeah.” You could be honest at least, though it wasn’t for the reason that Asgore thought you were surprised at. “Just didn’t expect to meet _the_ King of all monsters is all.” A bit dryly you muttered. “Can’t wait to see what _other_ surprises the universe is gonna throw at me.”

(That was sarcasm-- you absolutely _did not_ want to any more surprises from the universe, thank you very much!!)

”May I ask what your name is?”

This time your smile was wide with renewed kindness and you reached out your hand with your name given freely. “Please call me Eve.”

Asgore beamed down at you, reaching out to take your hand and giving it a gentle shake. Like Toriel, his paw encasing your hand, the fur tickling your skin pleasantly and you fought the silly urge to rub your cheek against his paw.

“Then please call me Asgore.”

“I’ll do my best, your Majesty.” You couldn’t promise such a casual exchange-- not while this meeting was still so new and trust was being established. But you had hope that you would one day address Asgore as a man instead as a figure of authority.

Releasing your hand, the King turned to Frisk, and you watched with fascination as Asgore’s demeanor shifted from a solemn serious monarch to a befuddled man. “Golly, it sure is a good thing I managed to find you all.” He said. “Somehow, I managed to lose track of everyone and ended up wandering around.” His expression grew sheepish (heh.). “Perhaps it would be best if I stay close to you and Tori.”

Frisk nodded and shot you a wide smile.

* _Frisk tells Asgore how they met you._

“Oh dear,” Asgore remarked with distress marring his face as he looked towards you with an apologetic expression. ”Please forgive me. Whatever harm came from the encounter you had with those monsters, I accept full responsibility and the consequence for their mistake.”

“Oh no, please, it’s okay!” You said, panicking as you watched Asgore bow their head before you in supplication. It made you uncomfortable. You didn’t want to see this gentle giant brought to his knees over something that was your fault from the start. “Like I said, I startled them—they just reacted to defend themselves, it couldn’t be helped. I’m not hurt your Majesty, honest.”

“It _could_ have been helped if you had told the citizens about the barrier, Dreemurr.” Toriel said with thinly veiled irritation. “We are fortunate enough that Eve or Froggit and Whimsun were not harmed,” She looked at you briefly while scolding Asgore, who seemed to cower more and more under her barbed criticism. You had watched the interaction with a faint sense of weariness; it almost felt like witnessing a teacher dress down a schoolboy—or a wife scolding their husband.

The image would have been funny if the reality wasn’t so serious.

“Did you not think to inform the rest of monsterkind that Frisk needed to make contact with the humans before the others could leave the Underground?” she continued with agitation. “You cannot expect them to wait when their freedom is within their grasp—”

“Now Tori—”

“Oh, do not ‘ _Tori_ ‘ me, Asgore--!”

It was startling to see the King of Monsters cower before Toriel; you stood dumbfounded from watching their exchange when suddenly, you felt your hand being grasped. Glancing down, your surprise shifted to ease as Frisk stood beside you and gave your hand a brief squeeze before tugging you away from where the two monsters stood. You returned the gesture in kind and followed Frisk’s lead, no more than a few feet away before you stopped. Kneeling, you shifted your weight, keeping yourself balanced on the balls of your feet while remaining eye level with Frisk so that you could converse with them easier. Keeping your voice low enough for only Frisk to hear you, you spoke.

“Am I missing something here, or does Toriel seem…hostile towards Asgore?”

Frisk gave you a hesitant look before they reached for their phone, their thumb tapping at the buttons of their phone to answer your question. You looked at what they wrote and nearly choked on air.

> **Frisk:** _Mom's mad because Asgore asked me to be the monster ambassador._

Well you weren't sure what surprised you more: the fact that Toriel adopted Frisk as their child or the King made Frisk into an Ambassador for monsters. Mind thoroughly boggled, you shot a disbelieving look between Frisk and Asgore before you looked back at Frisk. “Yeah, I can kinda see where she’s coming from. No offense Frisk, but what the hell? You’re just a kid!” And you did—if you were Toriel, you would have ripped into Asgore much more thoroughly. You were rearing to join Toriel, your body revved to surge to stand and march over and give the King a piece of your mind, if Frisk hadn’t shown you their screen, a new message displayed for you to see.

> **Frisk:** _I know I’m just a kid, but trust me, it’s better this way. I’ve been with monsters for a long time. I know how they are, and Asgore sees it too._

A look of contemplation crossed their features before they continued typing, turning their phone screen towards you for you to see what they wrote.

> **Frisk:** _I know Asgore feels guilty for asking. But I agreed because I want to help monsters. This is /my/ choice, even if she doesn’t like it._

“Still…” You didn’t know what to say about that. You could offer your own insight, but you doubted it would change anything. Besides, you were an outsider—what could you possibly say to make the situation any better?

Nevertheless, you couldn’t let your feelings remain unsaid. “I think that the whole situation is difficult,” you said after a thoughtful stretch of silence. “But the fact that you—and Asgore—are trying to do the right thing for monsters is admirable and brave.”

> **Frisk:** _Brave?_ _Why’s that?_

“Because you’re about to reveal an ugly truth to humans when they’re happy to believe in a pretty lie.” You said, a solemn air surrounding you as you spoke. “They’re going to see the legend they believed as just a myth was _real_ all along—and they’re going to be faced with the repercussions for their mistakes. Some people aren’t going to handle that very well.”

You stopped yourself before you said something damning. You didn’t want to scare Frisk or have them lose their determination to help these monsters. But you knew humans weren’t going to readily or easily accept monsters into society—hell, some of them barely accepted those within their own species. You knew that Frisk had a long road ahead of them and you didn’t envy them for the path they took. But you couldn’t help but feel pain for the burden that they carried on their shoulders.

No child should ever be shackled with so much responsibility, especially when so many lives depending on them succeeding in their endeavor.

“Look...I may not know much about monsters--” That your grandmother had not already told you at least. “--but…what I can tell you is that not all humans are jerks.” You looked into their eyes and smiled—a wry, helpless quirk of the corner of your mouth that conveyed all that you felt. That despite the hardships that were to come out on this day, they wouldn’t be alone to face them. And that maybe you could help them weather that storm—come what may, you were fond of this kid and you would be damned if you would let them carry this burden without some sort of guidance.

“And besides, you’ve got a few friends who’ll help ya--” You then jerked your thumb to your chest as your mouth stretched wide in a pleased grin. “--and at least one human who’s on your side.”

“YOU’RE DAMN RIGHT THEY DO!”

All conversation ceased as everyone’s head whipped towards the source of the new voice that emanated within the forest. Standing up, you _especially_ stared intently at the trees as the sounds of rough snapping and crashing resonated within the forest before _two more_ monsters broke through the tree line (and once again, the wards remain inactive—small comfort), one striding forth with confident footsteps while carrying the other underneath their arm.

They didn’t hesitate to stop right in front of you and Frisk, and you found-- that in all your life since you discovered yourself and your… _preferences_ —that you had never felt keenly _aware_ of the female standing before you than you did in this very moment. Which is to say, you were overwhelmed and _starstruck_.

_Oh…my…_

The monster before you was, for a lack of a better word, simply _**gorgeous**_ ; they were shorter than Asgore, yet they easily stood and towered over you, with your head meeting just beneath their chin. This was _completely_ okay with you—in fact, you weren’t bothered by the significant height difference in the slightest. Or by them at all.

You were too busy trying to calm the thunderous knocking against your ribcage to really be bothered to care. You were literally seconds away from _swooning_ like a silly teenager and making an embarrassment out of yourself--it was ridiculous! Sure, the fish lady was tall. Sure, she was built like she bench-pressed boulders and _oh my god those were her **muscles**? Oh _spirits _her arms could pop my head like a balloon and I’d thank h— brain, brain, **brain,** **focus brain!!!**_

Right. What was I doing again?

Oh right. Yes, you _definitely_ had better control than this!

(You found that you didn’t, in fact, have control over your emotions—all you could think was how hot this monster was standing before you and you were almost _positive_ you looked like an idiot with your mouth open—shit, were you drooling? You were drooling, _shit_ , whelp, that _definitely_ left a _fantastic_ impression on them— _ **not**_!)

You barely managed to _discreetly_ shake yourself from your starstruck stupor while wiping your mouth of any phantom saliva that leaked from your mouth while your eyes swept up their form. You took in the sight of their beautiful blue skin, noting the scars crisscrossing their torso and arms in thin white lines, your eyes catching the sight of their fins and the high veil of red hair that rested in a high ponytail atop their head. She was, without a doubt, an attractive fish monster you had ever saw, if your internalized gay panic attack was a testament to be known.

Which kicked up in full force the second you caught sight of their razor-sharp teeth ( _oh **lord** you were in trouble now--)_, and thus effectively rendering you stupefied and speechless. _Again._

“Got somethin’ to say to me _human_?”

 _Yes,_ You thought dazedly. _How hard can you bite before breaking skin?_

_**Woah—down girl!!** _

Reeling in your ~~horny~~ inappropriate thoughts ( _before you did or said something stupid that would get you dragged to horny jail_ ), you cleared your throat before you spoke.

“No!” You squeaked out, coughing before you tried again. This time you sounded less like a frightened little girl, and more like the put-together young adult that you were. “I—That is—I mean—” _Oh fuck it._ “I think you’re beautiful!!” You blurted out.

_Yep. Smooth._

Now more than ever did you wish in that moment for the earth to break open and swallow your body whole. You could even go for a spontaneous strike of lightning to hit you—at this rate, anything was preferable than suffering the utter _humiliation_ you could feel coursing through you.

Even _worse_ was that the woman threw back their head and _laughed_! Full-bodied, boisterous guffaws filled the clearing, joined by the traitorous giggles of Frisk, who watched your struggling with silent amusement up until this point. _Gee, thanks Frisk._ You shot them a look that was withering if they had bothered to look up from how they doubled over with laughter.

“I-i-its okay,” stammered a faint but amused voice. “T-t-trust me, I-I know t-the f-feeling.”

Confusion colored your features as you looked around for the source of the voice until your eyes landed on the small yellow monster who you recognized as the one who was initially held by the fish woman. At some point they must have wrangled themselves out of their hold while you were busy recovering from your mental slip up; they were noticeably short, around the same height as Frisk and wore what looked like a lab coat with glasses perched adorably atop their snout.

A lizard. You were staring at a short yellow lizard, or perhaps she resembled the appearance of a dinosaur—who had a cute tail protruding from beneath their coat! If that wasn’t the cutest thing you had ever seen, you weren’t sure if anything else could top that!

 _First a frog, a moth and goats… now a fish and dinosaur monster._ You thought with a faint sense of bewilderment. _I don’t think I can be more shocked than I already am at this point._

(You were getting the uncomfortable feeling that these random encounters were the design of someone who watched way too much anime-- and your life happened to be the subject of their amusement.)

“At the risk of sounding like an idiot,” Came your rather dry retort. ”I’m not usually prone to panicking in front of pretty women...or monsters...” You weren’t exactly sure why saying _that_ felt right, but you were relieved to know that they responded with twin looks of pleasure.

“W-well...y-you’re not w-wrong there...” The shorter monster glanced at the fish woman fondly, who at some point stopped laughing long enough to notice that their companion stood next to them. “U-undyne, b-be nice.”

“What—I am being nice! I was laughing at their joke!”

“U-undyne, I-I don’t t-think t-they were j-joking.”

“Oh. Seriously?”

“Uh... yeah, if we could just...pretend that I never said that that would be _great_.” You cut in, your face burning with embarrassment.

“S-said what?” the yellow monster replied with a small smile, to which you returned the gesture in gratitude.

As if sensing a lull in the conversation, Frisk quickly gestured to you and pointed at the new arrivals happily with a quick introduction.

* _Frisk introduces you to Undyne and Alphys._

“It’s nice to meet you two.” You grinned and offered your hand to the two women. “I’m Eve!”

“N-n-nice to m-meet y-you, Eve!” You shook Alphys’s hand gently in greeting before turning to Undyne with the same outstretched hand. Her single yellow eye looked between your hand and your face, studying you briefly before giving you a sharp grin. Suddenly her hand clasped yours in a tight hold, one that almost made you wince with how strong she squeezed you.

“Don’t think that just because Frisk trusts you that _I_ do, _human_.” Undyne sneered. “No offense, but it’s gonna take more than flattery to earn my trust. You’re lucky Asgore doesn’t find you as a threat, or else you’d be dead where you stand.”

“U-undyne!” Alphys protested nervously while Frisk looked on with clear panic in their expression.

“No, you’re right.”

The fingers you wrapped around Undyne’s hand flexed, tightened as magic flickered through your veins to give you the strength that matched Undyne’s gesture. At her fanged smile, you let your lips curl at the edge of your mouth, and though you lacked the same deadly sharpness, there was no mistaking your intent as you spoke in return.

“If I were any other human, I’d probably have already attacked the other monsters that came before you and hurt them. Maybe even killed them.” The truth of your statement startled you, a serious look suddenly crossing your face, bringing the intensity between the two of you back down. ”But... I’m not like those humans. I’m only myself, and I will _never_ intentionally hurt a monster.” You spoke as if making an unbreakable vow. Maybe you did. Right now, it felt like this conversation was the pinnacle point in your relationship with monsters that you couldn’t mess up.

You didn’t give a thought to your occupation as a witch, or even as a human; to you, all that mattered was letting this woman know who _you_ were, down to your very soul. It felt important enough to say it out loud, like speaking it would affirm your intent.

“My grandmother has told me that monsters aren’t beings of hate, but of magic and love-- and my Nana has never lied to me, so I’m trusting that you’re saying this out of self-preservation than malice.”

As you spoke you made sure to stare straight into Undyne’s eye, willing the truth of your words and their intent to echo between you and her. You hoped that though your soul, she would see that you meant no harm to her and her kin—that you would sooner perish than allow any harm to befall the monsters you were growing quickly fond of.

“If you don’t believe me, then that’s fine. I’ll let my actions do the talking.”

For a moment, Undyne said nothing. You let her study you and weigh the validity of your words for herself. You couldn’t guess what she was thinking, her expression neutral and closed off.

But you didn’t have to wait long for her to come to a decision. It seemed she found the honesty of your words worthy of her respect, for she broke into a wide toothy grin.

“A’ight! I’ll hold you to it punk!”

Without warning you were yanked into a tight embrace, the band of her arms crushing your body against hers in a parody of a hug before quickly releasing you. You wheezed, fighting to catch your breath while Undyne guffawed at your struggle to draw air into your lungs.

Alphys and Frisk shared a look of relief while your exchange with Undyne occurred. Lingering in the background, Toriel and Asgore appeared just as relieved, who observed your interaction with Undyne without comment. You wondered if Undyne was someone that they trusted; if the way she regarded Asgore was any indication of how close they were, you could only assume that Undyne was one you did not underestimate. By her demeanor alone you surmised that Undyne held a battle prowess that was only second to Asgore in terms of strength. If it came down to a fight between you and Undyne, you were sure that you could hold your own, but you wouldn’t come out unscathed.

Strangely enough, the knowledge made you glad; Undyne didn’t strike you as the type to pull their punches. She would meet you head on without pity or mercy, nor would she hold back for anyone’s account. You could respect that, even if the thought of fighting her seriously made you nervous.

“U-um, I-I c-couldn’t help b-but notice...” You looked down at Alphys, who had a look of wonder on her face while her gaze traveled to your jacket. “Your j-jacket...d-did y-you make i-it y-yourself?”

“Yeah, I embroidered it myself.” Surprised, you turned around so that your back faced the group. You heard Alphys gasp before she squealed out a happy exclamation. “It’s my favorite tarot card in the Major Arcana trump suit.”

“O-omigosh! W-well, I-I w-was going t-to ask i-if y-you have e-ever w-watched _‘Mew Mew: Kissy Cutie_ ’ b-because o-one of the c-character’s l-likes t-the occult--”

“Wait, you _watch_ ‘ _Mew Mew: Kissy Cutie’_?” Now _that_ surprised you. “I mean don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with watching anime, I’m just surprised that you guys had access to the show--”

It was like you said the magic words. All of a sudden Alphys bombarded you with knowledge of how she stumbled upon the anime and her growing obsession with the series. Of all places for Alphys to collect anime, you wouldn’t have guessed that the _dump_ would have been it, but you supposed there was a first for everything. It did answer the question of how monsters kept themselves informed with human culture. It wasn’t exactly the most _accurate_ material you would have hoped for, but at least most anime adaptions mirrored real life. And that was putting it _mildly_.

You had a feeling there would be some culture shock, but you were confident that they would overcome that obstacle quickly (you hoped).

When Alphys asked you whether you liked anime (which you did) and what your favorite series was, you gave her several recommendations and personal preferences; you even admitted to her that you had a guilty pleasure for _Sailor Moon_.

(Hey, don’t judge.)

Eventually the topic of discussion migrated to the internet, in which Alphys explained that their version was called the UnderNet and offered to create a profile for you. You weren’t sure how that would translate to the internet on the surface, but Alphys assured you that with the barrier gone, the connection could integrate without issue.

“--a-and speaking of contacts, w-we should exchange n-numbers!”

“Yeah definitely!” You took your phone out and quickly brought up your contact app before handing your phone to Alphys. You watched as she entered her phone number ( _how did monsters even have cell phone service in the underground?_ ) in your contacts and helped you set up a UnderNet profile, all the while marveling at the sleek design of your device (“W-we _definitely_ n-need t-to upgrade o-our p-phones.”) before motioning to hand it back to you.

At which point, Undyne suddenly snatched your phone out of Alphy’s hand before you could reach for it.

“If Alphys is gonna get your phone number, then I’ll give you mine!”

Laughingly you watched your phone be passed around between Undyne, Asgore and Toriel, who each entered their contact information until it finally landed back in your hands. You briefly skimmed your contact info and edited the names accordingly before you pocketted your phone back inside your jacket.

“Now we can send each other messages!” Toriel appeared the most excited by this prospect and you couldn’t help but feel the same. “I am also learning how to send ‘memes’, though I am not quite sure I understand what they are.”

 _Oh boy_. “Toriel, I look forward to the memes you send me.” You said with utmost sincerity. There was no doubt within your mind that the kind of memes Toriel would send you would likely be something found on Facebook, which made the sentiment all the more endearing to you. “You guys are more than welcome to text or call me anytime. I can’t guarantee I’ll answer right away, but I’ll respond whenever I have time.”

“We appreciate your candor Eve,” Asgore said kindly. “We will try not to cause too much of a disruption in your life.”

“Oh please-- disrupt away.” You joked. “Trust me, I’ve got nothin’ going on aside from helping run my Nana’s shop and training.”

“Oho?” Undyne hedged, eyeing you with interest; you suddenly realized your mistake too late when she approached you with a wicked grin. Before you could backtrack the slip of your words, she continued. “Didn’t peg you as a fighter punk-- if you’re needin’ a sparring partner, gimme a call.” From the sound of it, you knew she was demanding that you be her sparring partner and you _knew_ that refusing would probably bring up the question of what your training entailed. Something that you weren’t quite ready to share yet.

So like an idiot, you smiled weakly and agreed. “Sure!”

“Awesome!” Undyne cowed, before enthusiastically driving her fist against the meat of your forearm. The unexpected punch brought out a small yelp from you, but you handled it with grace and managed not to whine from the bloom of pain radiating from the spot her fist landed on.

“Hah, you must be pretty tough if you can take my punch without cryin'!”

“Undyne, please try not to make a habit of punching humans.” The disapproving tone echoing from Asgore distracted Undyne enough that you quickly rubbed your arm with a small dose of healing magic.

With shoulders sagged, you sighed while shuffling your hands inside the pockets of your jacket before you turned your body to face the final light of the setting sun. The excitement of the evening was wearing you thin, and you weren’t sure you could take any more surprises to come out of the forest. In a bid to retain the last shred of your sanity, you looked to Frisk as the one human who could help you find some semblance of normalcy. As if sensing your stare, they looked up to you, taking note of the exhaustion you wore upon your face before they frowned.

> **Frisk:** _Are you okay?_

“Just…tired.” You rubbed your face briefly as you spoke, the weariness undisguised even as you gave them a small smile. “Wonderin’ how I’m gonna explain to my Nana what’s happened.”

> **Frisk:** _Is she gonna be mad?_

“Nah.” _She’ll probably throw a party to be honest._ “If anything, she’ll be excited. She’ll fuss over whether there’s enough food for y’all to eat, but she’s not gonna freak out.”

“Speaking of food…” You felt like a broken record all over again, but you called out to the group of monsters to gain their attention. “Hey, if you guys want, I’ve got some food back at my place! You’re all welcome to join if you want!”

“HELL YEAH!! Sound good, I’m in--!”

“We would be honored to join you, Eve.” Asgore supplied, shooting Undyne a reprimanding sort of look that Undyne received and cowed under meekly.

As conversation began to rise between your rag-tag little group, you allowed the cloud of exhaustion hanging over you to set upon your shoulders, and for a brief moment you simply stood and watched as the sun made the final trek down the horizon. On the other side of the world, the sun would rise and bring about another dawn, another day—a new life that was better than the last. You took solace knowing that their day wouldn’t change even as the world turned. That the day when the barrier shattered, people would still get up in the morning for school or their job and continue living their life.

As the sun’s light receded and the sky’s canvas changed from its faded twilight of yellow, orange and red to the rich, deep hue of purple, blue and black, you felt a peace in knowing that even with all that had happened today, tomorrow’s sky would still hold the same colors.

In the midst of your observation of the sky, Frisk looked around the clearing before turning to Alphys questioningly.

* _You ask where Papyrus is._

“H-h-he must s-still be w-wandering a-around the w-woods.” Alphys replied. She looked towards the tree line in worry. “I-I’m s-s-sure he’s fine—a-after all, S-sans is w-with him.”

Frisk opened their mouth to comment when their phone rang. They answered on the second ring, holding the phone a few inches away from their head as the volume could be heard without needing to keep the earpiece close.

_“FRISK! THANK GOODNESS! WHERE ARE YOU? THIS IS A DISASTER! IT APPEARS THAT THE GREAT PAPYRUS CANNOT LOCATE ANY HUMANS! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO MAKE MY DEBUT AS THE MONSTER MASCOT IF THERE ARE NO HUMANS TO ADMIRE AT MY SPLENDOR?!”_

Frisk smiled and told him where the rest of their group was. “Cheer up Papyrus,” They said softly. “You’ll meet another human pretty soon.”

_“REALLY? THAT’S WONDERFUL! SANS—COME QUICK! WE NEED TO HEAD OVER TO WHERE FRISK AND THE OTHERS ARE!”_

_“sure thing bro.”_

The line suddenly went dead, and Frisk pocketed their phone. Anticipating that they would arrive soon, Frisk looked to Eve, who looked as exhausted as they felt. They approached her and tugged the sleeve of their jacket to gain their attention before they spoke in a careful whisper.

“There’s somebody I’d like you to meet before we go,” they said. “They’re on their way right now.”

“Oh cool!” You answered, the surprise in your tone evident due to hearing the sound of Frisk’s voice for the first time rather than the fact that your company of monsters was steadily growing larger. “When are they—”

“HAVE NO FEAR—THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS HERE!”

“sup kiddo.”

“…coming.”

Your gaze landed on the source of the new voices and stopped.

_Oh no, oh **hell** no—_

It was then that you were struck by the sudden epiphany; as you gazed upon the arrival of the newest addition of monsters, a familiar song echoed within your mind, adding further irony to your situation.

> _Boys and Girls of every age  
>  Wouldn’t you like to see something strange?  
> Come with us and you will see--  
> This, our town of Halloween! _

As the song within your mind continued without recourse, you were utterly dumbstruck by what you saw. This time you closed your eyes for a scant fifteen seconds before you opened them—and still, you found that you were staring at two _living_ skeletons. You could determine that they weren’t _human_ skeletons, since they were _alive_ , and human skeletons, by very definition should be _dead_ but the fact that they were animate and that they could _talk_ was really jarring for you.

> _This is Halloween!  
>  This is Halloween!  
> Pumpkins scream in the dead of night!  
> This is Halloween!  
> Everybody make a scene!  
> Trick or treat till the neighbors gonna die of fright!_

You shouldn’t have been surprised. Given the day you were having, you thought that you had passed your threshold of strange encounters, but clearly the sight of these two left you reeling with mixed emotions.

> _It’s our town! Everybody scream!  
>  In this town of Halloween._

Surprise, disbelief, curiosity, slight weariness—these were appropriate feelings, and it was clarity and grace that you responded to their arrival with a small shriek before you fell flat on your ass.

> _I am the one hiding under your bed,  
>  Teeth ground sharp and eyes glowing red!_

Definitely not one of your proudest moments, but you have had a hell of a day and you could only take so much before you felt like you were about to start screaming. You were only human dammit!

> _I am the one hiding under your stairs,  
>  Fingers like snakes, and spiders in my hair!_

A bubble of laughter escaped before you could stop it, the sound bordering upon hysteria the longer you sat and stared at the two skeletons. The taller one, who had shouted their name ‘Papyrus’, looked at you with concern. The shorter one with a perpetually fixed grin on their face, looked at you with some measure of neutrality.

> _This is Halloween!  
>  This is Halloween!  
> Halloween! Halloween!  
> Halloween! Halloween!_

As the lyrics continued, the one who called themselves Papyrus strode towards you and Frisk, stopping before you to reach down and lift you up, taking great care to set you back on your feet before patting your head.

> _In this town, we call home--  
>  Everyone hail to the pumpkin song._

“NOT TO SEEM RUDE HUMAN, BUT ARE YOU ALRIGHT?”

“Y-yeah yeah—sorry gimme a sec—” Taking deep breaths, your anxious laughter receded until you could speak without fear of erupting into giggles-- or humming the song playing inappropriately in your head. “Sorry, nervous reaction.” You said as a way of explaining yourself for your bizarre behavior.

> _In this town, don’t we love it now?  
>  Everybody’s waiting for the next surprise~!_

Banishing the rest of the song from your mind before you started singing out loud, you focused on the introductions of the newcomers with rapt attention. “You must be the friends Frisk told me about, right?” You looked to Frisk for confirmation, who grinned happily and nodded.

“WOWIE FRISK! YOU SURE MAKE FRIENDS FAST UP HERE ON THE SURFACE!” The taller skeleton’s grinning skull widened, who looked at you with an awed expression. “HELLO HUMAN! IT’S NICE TO MEET YOU! I AM SURE FRISK HAS ALREADY MENTIONED WHO I AM BUT ALLOW ME TO INTRODUCE MYSELF! I AM—” With flare, the tall skeleton struck a dramatic pose, their red scarf flapping gently like a cape caught with a slight breeze blowing through as if by magic. “—THE GREAT PAPYRUS!”

“It’s nice to meet you Papyrus,” you greeted in return, laughter evident in your tone. You were charmed by Papyrus’s vocal enthusiasm, though you couldn’t help but wonder if he was always this loud on purpose, or if it was just how he was. It wasn’t a bad thing! You could clearly tell he was excited, which was infectious and wouldn’t have bothered you much, except you felt a headache gathering on your face.

Despite this, you gave Papyrus your name and held out your hand. “Call me Eve.” You smiled through the ache while Papyrus took your hand and enthusiastically shook it to the point that you were worried that your arm would pop out of its socket.

“IT’S NICE TO MEET YOU TOO EVE! SANS! STOP BEING SUCH A LAZYBONES AND COME INTRODUCE YOURSELF!”

“i think you already did bro.”

“NYEEEEEEH! NO! YOU NEED TO DO A PROPER INTRODUCTION!” Papyrus yelled exasperatedly, stamping his boot on the ground several times before he flung his gloved hand out to point at behind his brother. “COME OVER HERE RIGHT THIS INSTANT!”

You couldn’t help the laugh that fell past your lips as you watched the banter fly between the two skeletons. With wry amusement, you looked to the shorter skeleton, who meandered towards Papyrus until he stood next to him.

“heya,” said the shorter skeleton. “i’m sans. sans the skeleton.”

“Eve, Eve the Human.” You replied with returned sass and a cheeky grin. Sans gave you the impression of a chill dude. From a personality spectrum, he seemed to be on the complete opposite end of his brother, which you could appreciate. Given the excitement of the day’s events, Sans persona grounded you and settled your frayed nerves. As if guessing your thoughts, Sans lifted their gloved hand, to which you mirrored in kind—and heard the loudest fart noise cut through the stagnant air surrounding your group.

“SANS!!!”

“heh, sorry bro—couldn’t resist.”

A whoopie cushion—you were pranked by a whoopie cushion strapped beneath Sans’ palm. It certainly surprised you enough to earn a genuine laugh, breaking down the tension further.

“W-wh-what the hell?” You wheezed. “I-it wasn’t even _that_ funny but-but I c-can’t stop la-hahaha!”

Your hand slipped out of his to grip your middle as you doubled over in laughter. Small tears leaked from your eyes as you gasped and wheezing for breath. You didn’t see the looks that passed between the brothers and Frisk, nor did you notice the rest of the monsters approach your group. But by the time you calmed down, you straightened your spine and wiped the tears from your eyes before you gave Sans a grin.

“Got any more pranks, or is that your one-trick pony?”

“ _hay_ there partner,” Sans drawled out. “pranks are a _foal_ art, y’gotta know when to _lasso_ them.”

“NYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEH!!! NO PUNS!” Papyrus cut in with a distressed cry before his brother could continue. You on the other hand snorted and tried to stop the giggles that came unbidden by covering your mouth. Like you, Frisk attempted to do the same and struggled. “YOU’RE GOING TO TAINT THEM WITH YOUR TASTELESS HUMOR!”

“but you’re smiling bro.”

“I KNOW AND I HATE IT!”

To your relief, your phone chimed, distracting you from hearing the rest of the banter that went on between Frisk, the brothers and the rest of the gaggle of monsters. Your eyes skimmed the screen, freezing at the messages that flashed before cold panic filled you. You opened the app and read the texts your grandmother sent and felt dread quickly squelch the good mood you found yourself in.

> **Nana <3:** _I’m home, is everything alright? -Nana_
> 
> **Nana <3: ** _I see you have activated the wards by yourself. I’m proud of you, but that was very foolish of you :/ -Nana_
> 
> **Nana <3: ** _Sunshine, if you do not answer your phone within the next minute, I will come find you. You had better explain yourself. -Nana_

The time on your phone read 6:16pm—the last message that was sent was at 6:15pm. “Oh shit.” You whispered, quickly tapping against your phone screen and pressing it against your ear before you shot a look towards the backyard of your grandmother’s cottage.

“Is everything alright Eve?” Toriel, who observed your panicked expression approached you with clear concern.

“Fine! Just gotta let Nana know I’ve got company,” you said distractedly, listening to the other line ring. Before the second ring could start did you hear the line connect—and you winced at how quickly your grandmother had picked up the phone. Guilt was apparent on your face as you heard the clear worry in her tone. You could also tell she was displeased with you, which made you cringe.

“ _Little one._ ” The relief in her tone made you want to cry. " _You're alright._ "

“H-hey Nana,” You stammered out. “Sorry, I know I said I would meet you when you came home, but I got, uh, a bit distracted.”

“ _Yes, I can tell._ ” She sounded amused—a good sign that she wasn’t _totally_ upset, but you knew you weren’t out of hot water just yet. “ _The stew's ready to serve. I take it once you’re finished up, we’ll break our fast?_ ”

“Um. About that….” You glanced at Toriel, before you continued. “I may have…invited our new neighbors for dinner.”

Silence.

There was subtext within your statement that wasn’t said that you knew your grandmother was sharp enough to pick up on. You knew just as well as Nana knew that they had no new neighbors. Your closest neighbors were several miles out near Ebott and getting to her property took around twenty minutes to reach. But _those_ neighbors weren’t who you were referring to. After a short pause, your grandmother spoke, her even tone colored with clear curiosity and apprehension.

“ _…I take it that they are…hospitable?_ ” Meaning that her grandmother wouldn’t have to break out her shotgun to defend her property from trespassers. And that was just the **first** deterrent.

"Yeah."

“ _Well, bring em on up-- they’re your guests, so I expect you’ll be doin’ the hostin’. But you and I will discuss the wards later. I’ll see you in a bit, sunshine. Love you._ ”

“Okay, I understand. Love you too Nana. See you soon.”

 _Oh boy._ You thought, your heart speeding up as you ended the call. This was it. You, a last generation witch, were about to invite monsters into your grandmother’s home for dinner on Halloween. Which may or may not end with blood being spilled. If _that_ wasn’t a sign for things to come, you didn’t know what was. With that thought heavy on your mind, you could almost look forward to your Nana's lecture. _Almost_.

As you turned towards your group, you found that all eyes were on you. Smiling nervously, you put your phone away and left your hands in your pockets before jerking your head back towards the backyard of your grandmother’s cottage.

“So…who’s hungry?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you think Nana wouldn't bring a loaded shotgun to bust some ass on whoever is messing with her grandbaby, honey, you've got a big storm comin'.
> 
> Makes you think about what she'd do when she's forced to use her magic... :3
> 
> (Hint: you don't want to find out uwu)


	7. Something Wicked.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your guests meet your grandmother, and they discover something about the two of you that they did not expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :^)  
> It's Time lads. The big reveal.
> 
> Holy _shit_ I am so sorry for the late update! I hope this chapter makes up for how long you guys had to wait! Hopefully, the next update won't be so long to wait for and the plot can gain some traction :^) I can't tell you how excited I am for that! 
> 
> Slight trigger warning for implied suicide, but its nothing explicit.
> 
> Enjoy!

Sans was quiet.

That in itself wasn’t unusual of course. For those that knew the skeleton, he could be quite engaging, especially when an opportunity to pun could be inserted within the dialogue, but he knew when it was appropriate to be serious. Like right now: the current situation warranted his undivided attention, something that even Sans himself felt surprised by. As much as he wanted to take a much-deserved nap (today had been a _hell_ of a day y'know?), he had to refrain; given the day’s events, Sans felt that he could forego his habitual languor and keep an eye socket out for trouble.

His silence emanated from a need to observe without distraction or bias. After all, not even a full day had passed for him to enjoy his newfound freedom, and already he could feel that _something_ was amiss.

He could guess at least one of the reasons for that feeling. He suspected that it had something to do with what happened before the barrier shattered when that flower appeared. It had all happened so fast that when he and the rest of his compatriots were bound by vines, he could barely follow the exchange between Frisk and that… _creature_.

(Deep inside, a memory long forgotten echoed from another time that brought the image of a cruel smile and the sound of child-like laughter that held a mocking resonance. The vague notion that he had encountered a monster like that disturbed him—if only due to the fact that he couldn’t remember exactly what had happened.)

He didn’t like the holes in his memory whenever he tried to recall exactly what had happened _after_ everything had gone white, but he had a feeling Frisk knew. He could tell just by looking at them that something had happened.

In all the timelines Sans has had to repeat, he was absolutely certain that had never made this far along. He was confident that there was something that prevented the kid from reaching their goal.

Before they would reset to the very beginning, Sans would meet them in the Last Corridor—the Judgment Hall—and deliver his verdict. Every timeline was different: in their journey through the Underground, sometimes Frisk would gain EXP and their LV would grow. It would never reach past a certain threshold, something Sans commended them on given their circumstances.

Sometimes, the kid would go down a dark path-- one that seemed to reft them of all that made them human and it never failed to bring chills down his spine. His bad feeling would grow the longer he observed them, and when they finally reached the final obstacle before they reached Snowdin, Sans gave them only one warning. Sometimes, it would work and they would stray away from that path before they would fight Papyrus.

And sometimes it wouldn't.

Like clockwork, Sans would meet them in the last corridor before the throne room to face them. Inevitably, he would warn them not to take that final step, and inevitably, they would. He shouldn’t have expected anything different, but hey, he did warn them—so it was only fair that he followed through as judge, jury, and executioner.

(And Sans always made sure to give them a _**b a d t i m e**_.)

Luckily, Sans was good enough at his job to set the kid straight before they would inevitably reset everything back to the point where they first fell Underground. Sans supposed that he scared the kid badly enough that made them rethink how the route they were headed and decided that maybe they wanted to try another approach. Or maybe they were just that determined to leave one way or another.

Sans shuddered to think of the times where he had ended up getting killed. He had lost count of how many times he killed them—about as many times as Sans had to watch his brother disintegrate to dust. He wondered if maybe they truly regretted killing Papyrus and that was why they reset so far back.

Determination was a hell of a thing.

It brought Sans some measure of relief knowing that this time, the route they took led towards a more pacifistic approach. In the face of the genocide that the kid committed in the previous timelines, Sans truly wanted to believe that Frisk would do the right thing. That maybe— _just maybe_ —whatever had possessed them to commit such atrocities had been abandoned in the last reset.

(He wondered if maybe that had something to do with why the kid had traveled back through the Ruins.)

He was relieved to find that Frisk found a way that set them all free, even if he held some reservations towards their freedom.

But it was hard to remember the responsibilities of his position when he stared at the sun for the first time in his existence. Even with all of his knowledge of the timelines, he could never recall having reached this point before time would reset itself again. Now that he had a taste of what possibilities lay before him on the surface, he was terrified that it would all disappear. That in one moment, he would blink—and then time would reset _again_ , where he would be back in Snowdin.

 _it won’t happen again_. He thought giving the kid a sidelong glance. He wasn’t sure how he knew. Maybe it was a hunch, but he had a gut ( _heh_.) feeling that Frisk wouldn’t reset time this time. As he observed Frisk’s interaction with the human, the feeling grew stronger.

His grin widened as he watched Papyrus introduce himself to the human, who looked properly dazzled and bemused—he imagined that the human hadn’t anticipated someone as great as his brother to introduce himself, but Papyrus was a skeleton of impeccable manners who always strived to make a good first impression.

He really was the luckiest brother to have such a cool little brother like Papyrus—and it emboldened Sans to keep an eye socket out for any threats aiming to accost his brother.

As an older brother, he owed it to Papyrus to protect him from harm, even if it meant that he had to keep secrets from him. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his brother to understand—no, his brother was smart enough to see when he was hiding something.

But there were some things that Sans wasn’t ready to talk about yet.

(He wasn’t sure he would _ever_ be ready to talk... _especially_ about the past timelines he’s lived.)

Sans had the grace to feel guilty whenever he had to deflect his brother’s concern. It pained him to see his brother look at him with concern when he wasn’t sure he deserved the sentiment. But Sans knew that if there was one thing Papyrus was great at, it was his unwavering belief in him. And as much as it made his soul twinge to have to keep his false assurance, as long as it protected Papyrus from danger, Sans would endure the weight of his guilt.

Because that was what was demanded of him as the Judge.

As it stood, there wasn’t much that was needed to be said given the current situation, and truthfully, he was content to allow the scene to unfold before him and allow him to process the information presented to him.

This human—Eve—looked normal, as far as humans were supposed to look, Sans thought. Given that the only reference he had to go on was from the collected textbooks and ‘human history’ Alphys had collected from the dump, and from what Frisk had mentioned, Sans was fairly certain that Eve was about as threatening as a Temmie.

Which to be fair to Eve, she reacted better than how he imagined the majority of humans would have reacted when meeting monsters for the first time. He gave her credit for not screaming bloody murder at the sight of their arrival.

Oh, there was surprise evident on her face when he arrived via shortcut to where Frisk was located. Seeing her reaction was hilarious. Anyone would have been unsettled at the sudden appearance of two skeleton boss monsters, but Eve seemed to take it all in stride. He imagined she had been through the wringer with how exhausted she looked. Sans barely gave a thought to that little detail, until he stepped closer towards her.

And then he _felt_ it.

 _ **Magic**_.

Old magic—the kind that was reminiscent to the air that they breathed in the Underground from the feel of it, but not the kind that monsters made, that was for sure. He isolated the obvious magical presence emanating from their group to focus on the faint whisper of magic floating in the air.

Sans slowed his approach while he tried to identify the source of this strange magic. At first Sans couldn’t catch the trace that lingered, but that was before he was within proximity of Eve. Yet as he drew closer towards her, the evidence of magic use became more and more apparent to him, and he grew tense with dread.

This magic was unlike anything he had ever felt before, and so faint he almost would have dismissed it entirely if he hadn’t caught the scent that lingered in the air. The particles that coated the air lingered, wafting through his senses was floral, one that he vaguely recognized from scented soaps or candles that had fallen in the underground’s dump. Lavender, with the hint of cloves. Not an unpleasant scent, nor did the magic _feel_ hostile.

But looks could be deceiving and as a rule, Sans was suspicious to a fault.

That was when Sans _really_ started to pay attention and look at the surroundings; the forest looked undisturbed by recent outside forces or other _unusual_ influences that his magic could detect, but that didn’t mean that he was assured. It took only a minuscule amount of energy to expand his senses before he felt a recoil. Beyond the fenced area of what he guessed was Eve’s home, was magic unlike any he had ever sensed before. He was surprised that none of his companions noticed the sheer aura emanating from the cottage, and it made him suspicious.

Because there were only two beings known to him who wielded magic of this magnitude: monsters and mages.

Every monster in the Underground had been taught the history behind their imprisonment and of the ones who erected the barrier trapping them. Before meeting Frisk, humanity as a species was looked upon by the monster populous with disdain and anger. However, it was the mages that received the brunt of monsterkind’s fury.

He remembered Gerson mention that not all mages were part of the collective decision to seal monsters under Mt. Ebott, but many were skeptical of the Hammer of Justice’s claim. Gerson was a respected war hero, but his memory regarding the war between monsters and humans was…unreliable. Though now Sans was starting to believe that Gerson’s stories might hold a bit of truth to them.

Sans had a feeling that whoever lived in that house was a mage and a powerful one at that. He had no doubt that it was no mere coincidence that their home happened to be placed so close to the entrance to the underground. He suspected that their presence here was intended as a defense—that he could feel their magic just from beyond the forest border was a testament of their power and supported his theory.

_if there’s a mage in that house, then it looks like they’re waitin’ for us—_

He watched as Eve conversed over the phone with her grandmother before motioning for their group to follow her up towards the house. Frisk smiled while they walked beside Eve, who shorten their stride so that the kid could keep up. Sans ambled not far behind, keeping his gaze trained between the kid and the human.

_—and Eve’s leadin’ us right towards em’._

* * *

You could feel the weight of someone watching you.

You weren’t positive about _who_ was starting so intently behind your back, but it was there, and it was uh, _very_ intense. Yep. That just about described it. It settled right between your shoulder blades, the very physical presence of their gaze tingling up your spine and fixed in the center. You didn’t turn back to catch who pointed their dagger-like gaze at you, so you did your best to ignore it and kept walking, being mindful of your companion who seemed excited by the prospect of food.

You couldn’t blame them. You were _starving_.

It was taking all of your energy to keep putting one foot in front of the other and keep yourself from collapsing. Nana was right—you were foolish enough to use your magic to cast the wards all around the property, and now you were paying the price for it. _Well, at least something came out of it_. Indeed—you now led the monster Ambassador, the King of Monsters, and his entourage back to your house to share some stew and conversation.

You tried not to let out the hysterical giggle that bubbled up to your throat at the utter surreal-ness of your situation. You had been ignoring the voice inside your head up until this point, but now it was steadily growing louder the closer you came up to the house—over and over, it repeated the same expletive: _what the fuck?_

Because honestly— _what the fuck?_ How could you _not_ freak out just _a little_ bit over this!? You invited _monsters_ over to your house for dinner!! _**Monsters!**_ The creatures that you had heard from the stories your grandmother told you! They! Were coming over! To eat dinner with _you_!

You were excited, elated, and slightly nervous—but that’s okay! Like most things, you would handle them as you went and approach everything by thinking on your feet. Sure, you might make a few mistakes, but life was full of learning experiences. And this was just another experience you had to navigate through. Somehow.

You really hoped that overall, tonight wouldn’t end in disaster.

It was not long before you approached the gate that walled your grandmother’s garden, in which you carefully unhatched the sliding lock to open the gate wide for the rest of your party to go through.

There was a path that led straight to the porch that encompassed a long stretch of trellises; standing tall and wide enough for four people to pass beneath, it was covered with a variety of flowers and vegetables that climbed and twined among the beams. They looked ripe and ready to be harvested, a chore you were looking forward to doing with your grandmother. You were nearly tempted to pick one of the low handing fruits that caught your eye, but you refrained—not while Nana waited for your return.

“This is…a beautiful garden, Eve,” Asgore commented, the wonderment clear in his tone while he looked up high at the ceiling of green. He was careful to duck down, mindful of his horns, and avoid knocking against any plants that grew slack among the beams.

“It is,” you agreed, feeling pride swell at the praise. “Nana and I both worked really hard to grow all of this. We’re hoping to plant more in the spring.”

“How remarkable.” Wonderment was clear in Asgore’s voice and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Do you like gardening, Your Ma—Asgore?” You asked curiously.

“When I find the time, yes.” He sounded bashful admitting this aloud. “I had a garden of yellow flowers.”

“Really?” It was hard to keep the surprise from your tone. “Not to be rude, but how did you manage to grow flowers without sunlight?”

“The plants that grew Underground are very different from the Surface,” He explained. “Much of what was grown was through a combination of magic and science, but there are some plants that are native to the mountain’s environment that hasn’t been tampered with magic.”

“Wow…” you said in a hushed tone that did little to hide your wonder. “Magic and science, huh?” you murmured. “That’s so cool…”

A little louder you spoke to Asgore. “Well, now that you’re free, you can start a garden of your own on the surface here—I’ll even lend you the seeds me and Nana have saved up to get you started if you like!”

“Eve, that’s very generous of you.” You heard the King say appreciatively as you continued to walk down the path.

“Consider it a welcome gift,” You said as you grinned over your shoulder at the King. “From one gardener to another, having seeds to start planting is worth more than gold.”

“Yes,” Asgore agreed with a nod and a smile. “indeed, it is.”

Moonlight peaked from the passing clouds of the night sky and illuminated your path towards your home. It was as if tonight was on your side, lighting your path and guiding your company towards your final destination to avoid any hindrances that would lead you astray.

“Me and Nana homestead,” You mentioned. “So, we grow enough to not have to go into town for groceries. But since the harvest season’s about to end soon, we’ll be storing the remaining food for winter.”

“YOU MUST HAVE A HUGE REFRIGERATOR EVE!” Papyrus commented, who listened quietly to your conversation with the King.

“Kinda.” You looked over and saw Papyrus frown, so you explained. “We can or freeze most of our crops, but some veggies will spoil if they’re frozen. So we have to improvise by storing them in a root cellar. Like for example, we grew a lot of tomatoes this year, so we’ll be making a lot of homemade salsa, ketchup, tomato sauce—”

“YOU MAKE YOUR OWN TOMATO SAUCE--?!”

“--you make your own ketchup?” Sans asked at the same time as Papyrus exclaimed with comical shock, the surprise evident in his voice.

“Yep, Nana makes the best sauce in the whole world.” Pride was evident in your tone as you added. “And I’m pretty good at fermenting a few sauces.”

“I WILL HAVE TO TRY IT FOR MYSELF!” Declared Papyrus. “PERHAPS IF IT IS GOOD ENOUGH FOR MY PALATE, I’LL USE IT TO COOK MY FAMOUS FRIENDSHIP SPAGHETTI!”

You wanted to know how a skeleton could even _eat_ to begin with, but you refrained from asking your question. If there was one thing that you had quickly deduced, it was that when it came to these monsters, the answer lied with one thing that they were made up of: magic.

You felt a tug at your sleeve, and you looked down at Frisk. They looked as if they were about to say something but changed their mind and looked at your chest, at the place where your soul rested.

* _Frisk tells you to keep an open mind when you try Papyrus’s spaghetti._

Surprised by the sudden echo heard inside your soul, you looked to the child who stuck to your side ever since you began your trek back towards the house. For whatever reason, Frisk seemed taken by you, and you weren’t sure how to feel about it. Humbled, perhaps? Nervous—yes, you felt that too. You didn’t have much experience dealing with kids, so you were a little unsure of how to handle them in general. Added the fact that Frisk was cared deeply by these monsters, it was safe to say that you were aware of how important they were.

Nevertheless, you responded to their communications—quietly.

“I’ll take your word for it.” At your answer, they grinned at you as you gave them a small smile before you focused on guiding your party through the garden tunnel.

Considering that Frisk also happened to be _the_ Ambassador for monsterkind just added another level of trepidation. You wondered again privately if placing such a role upon them was a good idea for someone like Frisk. For a child, they seemed… _older_. It had nothing to do with their age. It was in their stance, in the way they set their shoulders, how they looked and how they saw everything in front of them. It reminded you of how your grandmother would sometimes stare out at the mountain with a look that seemed to stare beyond what was in front of them.

(You realized that both Nana and Frisk had that same knowing gaze that saw too much at once—and a small part of you was frightened at the fact that this child had that same look.)

You couldn’t begin to imagine what they went through when they fell down in the Underground, nor could help but feel empathy for the ordeal they had to endure while trying to escape. So strong was your curiosity that you had to refrain from indulging the endless questions that you wanted to ask them. What happened when they fell? _Why_ did they go up the mountain in the first place? Was there something that happened at the foster care that made them follow the path up the mountain? Were they trying to hide? To escape?

~~_You didn't want to think of the worst possibility. Your mind_ _**refused**._~~

The torrent of questions buzzed in your mind and did little to help your headache that you had been ignoring up until this point. The protest from your stomach didn’t help either, so you set to widen your strides.

Just a little longer, and you’d be home. Just a little longer, and you could sit down with a nice hot bowl of stew and warmed butter bread, with good company. Maybe you could convince Nana to break out the mead to celebrate—Samhain was a time of celebration after all, and with the monsters emerging you didn’t see any reason why that alone wasn’t a cause to break into revelry. The thought cheered you and your heart beat faster with excitement.

As if to aid your cause, the moon’s light cast its ethereal rays upon the ground, clearing your vision of the shadows that lurked in the night, giving shape to the familiar surroundings of your backyard—

—and illuminating the path to your grandmother’s cottage.

Just a few yards ahead, you spotted the back porch, the light illuminating the furniture and doorway leading to the house like a beacon in a storm. Your first instinct was to sprint towards the doors and greet your grandmother. It had felt like you hadn’t seen her in _years_. Your perception of time seemed askew, as if it took delight in working against you just as much as it worked with you. Of course, you knew it was all in your head and you were acting irrationally, but you couldn’t help it!

You wanted to see Nana. You wanted to hug her and kiss her and tell her all about your day.

But you remembered her words: you had invited guests and you were the host—and as much as you wanted to abandon your manners to indulge in your desires, you knew you would have plenty of time to talk with Nana later.

You were almost nearing the exit of the tunnel when your steps started to slow. You stopped just a few feet from the entrance to the tunnel before you turned to face everyone. You knew what you had to do. You had to tell them the truth of what you and Nana were. As if sensing something had changed, you felt Frisk take your hand and squeeze it. You looked and saw their brow furrowed in a worried expression.

“Eve? Is something wrong?” You looked at Toriel as she spoke and felt touched by her concern. A wave of emotion crashed into you, knocking the breath from your lungs. For a few seconds, you only stood still before you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You felt your diaphragm righten, flattening out to allow the magic and oxygen in the air to fill your lungs, bolstering your courage as you prepared to deliver another shock to this kind group of monsters.

“I’m okay…it’s just…” You began nervously. “Before we go inside… there’s something that you all need to know…about me and Nana…”

Another deep breath.

“You see…Nana and I are—”

_“Who’s there?”_

You whirled around to face your grandmother’s voice. You hardly registered how the door to the porch had banged open in aggression, or how her tall frame strode across the threshold until she stood at the end of the porch steps. However, you _definitely_ noticed the long-barreled shotgun cocked against her shoulder, the accompanying stern expression that tightened her face bringing severe insight that you didn’t specify exactly _who_ was coming.

 _Oh shit_. Panicked, you looked at Frisk and gave their hand a firm squeeze. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this—just, stay here until I tell you it’s okay to come out,” you said distractedly. “I promise you, she won’t hurt you guys, you have my word—"

“Y’got three seconds to get the hell off my property,” She spoke coldly. ”Or y’get no mercy from me. _One_ —"

“Nana, it’s me!” You yelped, quickly running forward until the porch light illuminated your figure. “I’m here, everything’s okay!”

“Little one…”

The change in your grandmother was like seeing the night before day; the cold fury of an avenging guardian was gone, leaving the familiar wrinkled but endearing face of your Nana—who had a look between relief and irritation. “What the _hell_ took you so long?”

“Sorry.” Demurely, you had the grace to bow your head and give her an apologetic yet sheepish smile. “I got distracted.”

Her nostrils flared in a frustrated sigh as she lowered the barrel down to point at the ground. “Dammit—!” The sound of your name falling angrily from her lips made you flinched. “I almost blew your head off! Y’know better than t’go chargin’ up t’someone with a gun—if I hadn’t seen you I’d ‘ve shot ya dead!”

“But you didn’t.” You felt compelled to point this fact out even as guilt assaulted you. “I know you’d never hurt me, Nana…”

“That’s not the damn point!” She snapped angrily and you flinched again.

 _Yep, definitely pissed_.

What was worse was that you _did_ know better. As much as you hated making your Nana angry, as much as you hated being yelled at, you accepted that you had made a mistake.

You were about to open your mouth to apologize when you were roughly tugged forward and pressed against her chest. Her hand laid buried in your hair, cradling the back of your skull as she hugged you. Automatically your arms wrapped around her waist, your hands gripping the fabric covering her back. The familiar scent of lilac, amber and sweet tobacco immediately drained the tension from your body.

You felt yourself surrender into her embrace while fighting to keep from collapsing on the spot as the adrenaline you had accumulated from the day’s events finally crashed down upon you.

Like a child, you wanted to cry against her chest. You wanted her assurance that everything was going to be okay—that what you did was good, that you didn’t fuck everything up—and as if she could hear your soul cry out, you felt her lips touch your forehead, soothing your anxieties and calming your fears.

“Don’t _ever_ do that again, y’hear me?” She murmured, her fingers flexing gently against your scalp. Her temper had calmed enough that her tone was even. “’m not so old that I can’t see, but even in the dark it’s hard to distinguish what’s in the shadows.”

“I’m sorry…” You whispered.

Nana sighed. “S’long as y’promise me not to do that again.”

You nodded. “I promise.”

“Good.” Releasing her grip on your head, she let you go. Reluctantly you retreated a step back to face your Nana, blinking away the unshed tears from your eyes while you cleared your throat.

“So, remember I told you about our new neighbors?” You began while shuffling your feet against the ground. You saw your Nana still and you continued nervously, knowing that what you were about to do could very well change everything you—and your guests—knew.

“Well, they’re over here. It’s alright you guys!” You called out. “You can all come out now!”

At your direction, her eyes narrowed onto your face before slowly lifting to face towards the entrance of the garden tunnel. Wearily you watched as her expression shifted from calm to neutral—until her face grew slack, her lips parting slowly as a quiet gasp slipped out.

From the shadows, you watched as Frisk stepped out from the tunnel entrance to lead the group of monsters out from the darkness and into the porchlight. Toriel stood flanked at Frisk’s left side, her giant paws resting upon their shoulders while Asgore joined them at their right side. To Asgore’s right stood Undyne, followed by Alphys. You caught sight of Papyrus and Sans not far from Toriel’s side.

You looked to Frisk and spared them a weak grin, as if to say ‘that went well, huh?’.

Frisk responded by giving you a thumbs up.

“By the Spirits,” Your Nana whispered. “I had my suspicions of course, but I didn’t think…I can’t believe it…”

“I know,” You tempered your expression into something gentle as you spoke in soft tones to your grandmother. “I didn’t believe it either at first, but it was too big of a coincidence,f with the earthquake happening-- and then I _felt_ it, Nana, I felt the barrier shatter! And then when I was checking the wards, I ran into a couple—” At her startled look you quickly added. “It’s okay, they’re not hurt! But then…well…” You looked to Frisk, who stepped ahead of the group and smiled up at your Nana.

“One thing led to another,” You said in wry bemusement. “and well…here we are.”

 _To put it succulently._ You snarked to yourself before you shook your head.

“Nana, this is Frisk, the Monster Ambassador.” You introduced with a smile and a gesture to the child who stood in front of Toriel.

“Frisk,” You said looking at them with a small grin. “This is my Nana.”

“H-hello…” greeted the fallen child. Despite the quiet quality of their tone, Frisk’s words were clear enough to be understood by everyone. They stepped forward while their hand was held outstretched in front of them as they looked up at Nana with a small smile on their face. “I-it’s nice to meet you, Nana.”

Laughter burst out of your grandmother’s mouth and tumbled in gleeful cackles. It was that sound that made the palatable tension in the air ease its grip. Its infection was enough to make you grin—her laughter was one of your favorite sounds.

“Oh _hell_ , I never thought I’d see the day!” she managed to say between puffs of laughter. “Don’t mind this old woman, child, she hasn’t had her youth potion yet.”

You snorted a giggle before you intoned dramatically. “Well now that our little guest of honor has arrived, we can certainly make it.”

At Frisk’s confused look you quickly explained. “It’s a reference from _Hocus Pocus_.” It dawned on you suddenly that maybe Frisk had never seen the movie before. “Wait, you’ve never watched that movie, have you?” At Frisk’s shake of their head, you gasped and placed your hands on your hips while your face set in a look of excited determination. “Ohhhhh you’re gonna love it—it’s basically the best movie for Halloween!”

“We’ll have to put that on later on tonight.” Nana commented thoughtfully before she knelt to shake their hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Frisk. My name is Alene, but y’can call me Nana—everyone seems t’ do so.”

Giggling, Frisk nodded before they turned their head to look behind them. “Nana, this is my mom, Toriel.”

Right on cue, Toriel stepped forward. You watched as your grandmother straightened to meet the female monster, noting that she had long since let go of her shotgun, leaving it on the ground forgotten. That more than anything assured you that everything about this meeting was going in the right direction.

Even as tall as your grandmother was, her height just barely reached Toriel’s nose. In your mind, you stood observing the two women as a spectator that watched two titans standing before mortals. If your grandmother was intimidated by Toriel’s height, she didn’t allow her expression to show it. The silent exchange between them lasted no more than a few seconds. But you knew that there was a conversation that went on between these two that only they understood, one that seemed to end as Nana’s face broke out into a welcoming smile.

“A pleasure to meet you, Toriel.” She said, taking Toriel’s paw to give it a firm shake before releasing her grip. ”You must be quite proud.” Nana began. “I’ve never seen a more well-behaved, nor polite child—”

“Hey!” you protested.

“—aside from my granddaughter, of course.” She continued without infection, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes that told you she was joking. “Come now, little one, I’m only _kid_ -ding.”

There was a moment of silence in which you took the time to process what Nana said, before it clicked—and then you let out a groan. You weren’t the only one that caught the ill-begotten pun and expressed their displeasure.

“NYOOHOOHOOHOO--!”

The sound of Papyrus’s lamenting protest echoed within you as you let out a long-suffering sigh. “Oh boy, here we go.”

“Eve, don’t you mean,” Toriel corrected with a quirk of her lips. “'Here we _goat_ ’?”

Twin peals of laughter followed in the wake of the pun, leaving you devastated. “I’m so sorry.” You said turning to Frisk, your face set in an apologetic expression that was almost joking.

“Come now little one, don’t look so _bleat_.” Nana teased.

“Surely it can’t be that _baa_ -d?” Toriel supplied with a laugh.

A collective groan echoed among the group and you shared a look with Frisk before you spoke up, interjecting between the punning women before it gained steam.

“Okay _okay_ we _get it_ ,” You rushed to cut their punning to a close while trying not to smile or laugh. “Nana—”

“Fine fine, you spoilsport.” You heard her grouse playfully, earning a twitch in the corner of your mouth before her gaze finally landed upon Asgore. The moment her eyes took in Asgore’s imposing figure, Nana's frame froze, her shoulders stiffening as her eyes grew wide with something akin to recognition. You expected Asgore to greet Nana in the same fashion he had conducted with you, but to your surprise, he merely waited with a look of calm.

Several moments passed as Asgore and your grandmother stood observing one another silently and you noted with alarm the sudden building tension that emanated past the group. You looked around frantically to try to find the source, your eyes scanning the moonlit of the backyard for any sign of threats before you turned your gaze—

\--and managed to catch Sans staring straight at you.

You were taken aback by the open aggression that he displayed, the hair on the back of your neck standing straight up as you took the sight of his unsettling grin and blacked out eye sockets. His eyeless sockets wasn’t nearly as scary as the sense of danger you felt roll off his form.

Though Sans appeared casual with how he carried himself, his posture slouched and hands deep in his pockets didn’t disguise what your senses screamed at you to notice: he was ready to attack. You didn’t see him hold any weapons, but you had a feeling that despite how this skeleton appeared, he wouldn’t hesitate to wipe you and your Nana off the face of the earth.

If death had a face, then you were looking right at him.

You glanced nervously at Frisk, who looked between Nana, to Asgore, to Sans, and then back to you before stepping closer to you. Their gesture seemed to ease the hostility emanating from Sans because when you glanced back at them again, their eyes were back in their sockets with their expression contorted in a carefully neutral grin.

 _“I welcome you and your kin into my home_ —"

You could _taste_ the intent of her magic that painted her words as she bent low and _kneeled before the King of Monsters_. You were so shocked that you almost missed that she was visibly casting magic _right_ _in front of_ _everyone_. It was too late for you to process how alarmed you felt, you could give them no warning before Nana’s spell wove visible ribbons around the surrounding monsters and Frisk.

“Nana wait--!”

“ _So long as you enter with no ill will, you will leave just the same. So mote it be._ ”

Lilac color burst behind your eyes, the taste of amber and sweet-smelling tobacco assaulted your senses and rendered you immobile. You shook your head, freeing the vestiges of her magic that clung to you like threads.

The second the spell was unleashed, you noted the silence and saw the shock that brought everyone to stillness. You feared that your heart could be heard by everyone with how hard and fast it pounded against your ribcage. Panic brought sweat down your neck and sliced rivers down your back. You weren’t sure if you could handle a hostile encounter this night—and from the unreadable look that Asgore wore to the vacant eye lights that showed upon Sans’s smiling face, you had a feeling your grandmother and you wouldn’t have an easy time getting out of an encounter unscathed.

And that terrified you.

“Nana.” You managed to croak out, licking your dry lips nervously before you said. “I didn’t _tell_ them.”

“I know.”

The whiplash you felt as you turned your neck to your grandmother was palpable to your ears. You looked at your Nana disbelievingly as the nervous anxiety you fought to smother suddenly roared to the front and exploded before you could hold it back.

“You knew? _You knew_?!” You rounded on her as you felt yourself bordering on hysteria with how calm your Nana looked. Calm! Like it was her daily afternoon smoke break in the sunroom! Like you and her _weren’t_ two humans who happened to wield magic and _just_ happened to meet monsters that had been trapped by humans _who could use magic_! Didn’t she understand the severity of this situation!? Couldn’t she see that they were both in danger?! “If you _knew_ then why the f—”

“Language.”

“Why the _hell_ did you **do** that!?” You didn’t say _**fuck**_ like you wanted to because you respected your grandmother too much. And _**fuck yes**_ , you were upset but not enough to ignore the warning underlining your grandmother’s tone. “You didn’t give me a chance to tell them that we’re _allies_ ,” Rage and fear made you turn your back from your friends to face your grandmother, leaving you uninhibited by the looks they gave you that you didn’t see. “—or explain why we’re here, or that we—that we don’t mean—”

“Eve.” Asgore finally spoke and his tone was so gentle you fell silent to the compassionate quality. “It’s alright. We knew.”

“—that we mean no harm—wait w-what?”

Struck dumb, you looked at Asgore. You felt so lost. You probably _looked_ lost.

“What?” You repeated in a small voice. “I…I don’t…”

Sensations assaulted you too fast for you to process. All at once, you felt a numbing coldness settle over you. Shudders rippled along your body, the adrenaline that brought your fight-or-flight response to the surface bringing your panic and fear to a crash. Your vision was blurry, your skin felt cold and clammy despite the warmth of your jacket. You realized you were crying and that Asgore had stepped closer to lay a paw upon your back.

Embarrassed, you sucked in a sharp breath—and hiccupped in the process.

 _This is it_ , you thought miserably. _This is how I die._

“I apologize for not being forthcoming,” You vaguely heard Asgore speak to you, but he looked at your grandmother as he spoke. “But I had to be sure that you meant us no harm.”

“There is no need, Your Majesty,” You heard your grandmother speak with reverence. “But please forgive my granddaughter of any offense she has caused. She is young and her training has yet to be completed.”

“There is no need.” Asgore shot back with a smile. “It has been quite a long time since the war that a witch has greeted our kind. I have to say, I did not expect that to happen. Then again,” His tone turned wry with amusement. “I did not expect many things to happen this day.”

_What the fuck is going on?_

You felt like you weren’t hearing anything, yet the words were so clear; it was like your brain was hooked up to a heart rate monitor and it made the equivalent sound of a heart flatlining. A continuous ringing went through your mind until eventually you were pulled out with a brief touch to your face. You jerked, wide-eyed like a startled animal as you looked up into Asgore’s kind eyes.

“Breathe, Eve,” He intoned calmly. “Take slow, deep breaths with me. In—” He demonstrated the task by inhaling, his chest seeming to grow larger as he drew in the air around him. “—then out.” Then just as before, he exhaled and slowly let his expanded torso shrink as air hissed past his fangs. You followed along with him, repeating the same instruction for several moments until you were calm, his paw eventually falling back to his side while you gathered your thoughts before you could speak.

“I…don’t understand…” You began slowly. “Asgore…did you know when you met me, that I was a witch?”

“Oh goodness no! Not at first.” Asgore started with a chuckle. “When we first met, I had thought that you were a human. However, when I approached you, I could see magic resonate from you.”

“It wasn’t until your exchange with Undyne that I began to suspect your origin—and when you used magic on Undyne without any hostile intent, that was when my suspicions were confirmed.” Almost as an afterthought, Asgore added. “I was impressed by your bravery—not many can get the drop on the Captain of the Royal Guard.”

You paled at that. The realization that you _literally_ had a pissing contest with a _Captain_ of the _Royal Guard_ nearly made you faint.

“—though the guard is technically disbanded,” Asgore continued. “I fear in the coming days of monsterkind resurfacing from the Underground, their service may be required until peace is established between our kind and humanity.”

“There will be plenty of time to discuss _that_ can of worms later,” Nana interjected dryly. “But right now, my granddaughter’s duty is to be your host for this evening. Eve?” She called upon you gently. “Let’s not keep our guests waiting, shall we?”

You shot your Nana a look that said ‘are you fucking kidding me right now?’—to which she merely quirked an expectant eyebrow at you and smiled. Oh. She was serious.

_Well shit._

“Right.” You began, clearing your throat while shoving down the urge to scream in frustrated hysteria. “I guess I don’t need to introduce you to Asgore but _while we’re at it_ ,” You went on with infected sarcasm. “Nana, meet King Asgore Dreemurr, Ruler of the Underground—”

“ _Former_ ruler.” Asgore corrected politely.

“ _Former_ ruler of the Underground,” You continued without pause. “and leader of monsterkind. Then we have Undyne, Captain of the Royal Guard—” You made a sweeping gesture with your hand to bring inclusion to the other monsters that remained apart from your little gathering. “—and Alphys—”

“T-t-he f-former Royal S-scientist.” Alphys helpfully chimed in. Great.

“ _—the former royal scientist_ —” You said with growing exasperation. “—and then—”

“HELLO OLD HUMAN! I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS!”

Like a bull in a china shop, Papyrus strode towards your grandmother with the same charm and enthusiasm as he had shown you when you first met him. You nearly expected your grandmother to react with similar shock as you had expressed earlier (spitefully you _wanted_ to see your grandmother rattled for the stunt she had pulled), but to your surprise, she merely smiled up at the taller skeleton.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh or scream at how well your grandmother was taking all of this. But you were also seething with the fact that you had wracked yourself over with worry over this meeting between the monsters and your grandmother, expecting the worst only to find out that _they all knew the whole damn time_ and didn’t bother to mention this to you.

Suffice to say, you were _embarrassed_ as you were irritated. All of that worrying and anxiety—it was all for naught.

Huffing out a breath you crossed your arms and pouted. You were feeling petty dammit—you wanted to sulk at least a _little_ bit.

You flicked your eyes back to the scene with your grandmother and Papyrus and noted that the younger skeleton seemed to take your grandmother’s hand much more carefully than he did for you. You were touched by his consideration and smiled when your Nana made a comment that caused him to laugh aloud.

“—last, but certainly not least,” You interjected tiredly, wearily turning your head towards the quieter skeleton that followed behind his brother. “is Sans the Skeleton.”

“heya.”

Nana’s smile stayed exactly the same, betraying nothing to show any discomfort or unease with meeting two skeleton monsters. Of all the monsters you and your grandmother had met, it was these two monsters that would likely receive the most attention among the human populace. And given the stigma and symbolism that skeletons carried across the continent, the reactions would be mixed.

And that was putting it mildly.

“As I said before,” Nana began, and this time the warmth in her tone was real. “So long as no one holds any ill will towards myself or my granddaughter, you are all welcome into my home. The spell I cast will not harm you unless you will it otherwise. Pretty neat trick eh?” At her cackle, she quickly bent down to pick the shotgun up off the ground before sauntering back towards the porch and into the house. “Come on in y’all, supper’s on the table!”

* * *

After following your grandmother into the dining room, you announced quietly that you would set the table and left before anyone could say anything to you. You didn’t look at your grandmother while you turned and walked towards the kitchen, nor did yourself meet the curious eyes that looked at you.

Somehow, by some feat of fate or sheer dumb luck, you survived today, and you couldn’t even appreciate it at the moment. You felt too raw, too emotionally charged to take a moment to truly marvel the feat you accomplished. Surely no other witch of your generation could say that they were there when the barrier shattered, or that they met the King of Monsters.

But in the moment, all you wanted was to eat, shower and collapse on your bed and sleep the rest of the night away. You met your quota for needless panic and anxiety this night, thank you very much!

(If you were careful enough, you could cast Silence over your door and allow yourself to scream and cry—but the night was young yet, and you had your duties to attend to.)

You wished you could appreciate your situation as you tiredly searched through the kitchen cupboards for extra bowls and other utensils to set the table. But the simple truth was that you were running on empty, and this was about as much as you could do before your impending collapse. You managed to mindlessly go through the motion of setting the extra bowls, cups, and utensils out for your guests before you stopped.

The table could only hold six people at a time and eight at max if everyone managed to sit close together. Which meant that someone would either have to stand and eat, or sit in the living room.

 _Fuck it._ You thought despondently. _I’ll just go eat in the living room. Nana probably wants to talk with Asgore anyways…_

The chance to recharge by yourself without the pressure to participate in conversation made you dizzy with relief. Considering you needed the much-needed TLC that the tv and couch provided, you harkened to quickly fill each bowl with stew and sliced bread before you watched as one by one, your gathering filed in to take their seats. At the head of the table sat Nana; to her left sat Asgore, followed by Undyne, Alphy and Papyrus; at her right, was Frisk, Toriel and Sans.

“Sit anywhere you like,” you began while you filled the last bowl at the table before turning to begin walking towards the kitchen. “There’s plenty of food, so please don’t hesitate to ask for seconds.”

“Sunshine, where are you going?” At your Nana’s call, you stopped and turned to face her awaiting look. “Your seat is here.”

“I—but—”

* _Frisk tells you that they can sit on Toriel’s lap._

You stared dumbly at Frisk, who climbed onto Toriel’s lap to sit down at the table. Everyone had settled into their seats and seemed to wait for you to join them, leaving you filled with a sense of dread as you realized that you would have to be forced to sit in the company of your guests. You wouldn’t be able to escape and eat quietly by yourself like you hoped.

You shot your Nana a pleading look, only to have your hopes dashed at her expectant look. You noticed your seat was unoccupied—and sitting beside you was Toriel, with Frisk sitting straight on her lap who grinned at you excitedly.

“Oh.” Hollowly you nodded before you stepped forward and slid into your chair before you straightened and looked around. “Well…” Nana merely tilted her head in permission for you to continue before you spoke. “Let’s eat.”

You waited and watched as the sounds of clinking spoons scraping against bowls made music in the air as the dining room occupants took their first bite of your stew. You noted that as soon as everyone took their first bite, their responses were instantaneous: mirth, surprise and pleasure were worn with a tender flush to their cheeks. The quiet compliments and even exclamations that resonated throughout the dining room made you smile, your cheeks pinking with pleasure.

Taking their reactions as a good sign, you scooped a healthy spoonful of thick brown broth, ladened with chunks of carrot, potato and cubed meat making your mouth water before you brought the portion to your mouth—and nearly wept with the emotion you experienced.

“Ah…” Nana hummed contently. “Sunshine, you’ve outdone yourself with this stew…thank you.”

Flushing at her praise, you took another bite as the flavor and magic you carefully tended into your stew brought back the sorely needed energy your body desperately craved. Your eyes slid shut as you took a moment to allow the intent in your dish to satiate your palate and warm your body; the hope, joy, excitement, compassion, and love that you felt filled you, renewing your vigor to take another bite.

Then another, and another as your hunger made you ravenous, mindless to fill the cold void inside your soul.

The sound of Nana clucking her tongue made you flush red with embarrassment and you murmured a quiet apology for your faux pas.

“Did you eat at all today?” Nana said. What she was really asking was if you actually ate a full meal, which you did not. You were pretty sure that the abysmal breakfast bar and cup of coffee that you had this morning wasn’t something she would be too happy to hear about. Not to mention the fact that you had skipped lunch.

“I did— when I came home, after I woke up from my nap,” you began, quickly clarifying when she opened her mouth to fire off another lecture. “I had some cereal.”

Your name was said in a low warning that promised another lecture and you groaned. “C’mon Nana, gimme a break, at least I ate _something_ before I checked the wards.”

“Thank god for that,” came her dry reply. “Otherwise, there might not be any stew left before our guests had a chance to finish. However,” Her tone suddenly turned stern. “If you had taken the time to eat a _proper_ meal, your soul wouldn’t be starvin’ of magic. You know better, little one. Pushing past your limits is all well and good, but to do so while severely undernourished is the very height of foolish—and you damn well know I taught you better than that.”

You decided to bite your tongue and continued to eat. While arguing with guest’s present was in poor taste and bad manners, you didn’t feel the need to advertise your mistake. You weren’t sure if the monsters here understood the significance of being magic fatigue among mages—or witches in your case, but you guessed that if they were aware of the context of what your grandmother was referring to, they probably would have agreed with her.

Though the reprimand stung, you knew your Nana meant well by you. As your mentor, it was her duty to ensure that you were using your magic safely. The slightest infection in the soul or trace of malevolent intent was all it took to cause magic to become volatile. Had you miscalculated and blundered through your activation of the wards, you would likely have been seriously hurt—or worse.

“I was careful Nana,” You began after swallowing the mouthful of thick broth. “Besides, I remembered the lessons that my mentor taught me very well. I didn’t push myself too far.”

“Suckin’ up t’me won’t save you from the chores y’gotta do tomorrow little one.” Nana intoned dryly. “But you’re right—as stupid as it was of you to do what ya did, ‘m damn proud of ya.”

“Forgive me for prying,” Toriel suddenly inquired beside you curiously. “But what did you do exactly, Eve? What are these ‘wards’ that you keep referring to?”

“Ah, well,” you stuttered out after wiping your mouth with your napkin. “The best way I can explain it is that they’re kinda like a magical alarm system. We cast wards protect us and let us know if anyone coming onto the property has any ill-intent towards us and it activates a defense mechanism to deter them away from us.”

“We have used this technique for hundreds of years,” Nana explained. “Ever since our ancestors were forced to flee Ebott after the war, they used wards to protect their clan from their enemies. Nowadays we have used them mostly to scare away solicitors and unwanted guests, but it is also used as a shield against those that hold hostile intent against us.”

You glanced around and saw Undyne staring from you to Toriel, before suddenly spoke.

“So lemme get this straight,” She said. “You—” She thrust her finger at you, then towards your Nana. “—and your grandma are both mages, but you guys aren’t _really_ mages. You’re witches.” At her expectant look, you nodded slowly. “I don’t get it.” Undyne said bluntly. “I thought mages hated monsters. You guys are mages, so what’s the deal?”

“If you want to get technical,” Nana said, the amusement clear on her face and in her tone of voice. “We are considered mages, but we have long since abandoned the title. We are the allies that fought alongside the monster. The ones that had not died in the war or weren’t executed by humans were exiled and since then, we have distinguished ourselves as witches. We do not associate ourselves with mages—not since after the monsters were sealed underground.”

“You’re tellin’ me that your kind fought against humans?”

The disbelief in Undyne’s tone could have been understood if it weren’t for the sneer that came across her face. Reminding yourself that snapping at the hot fish lady wasn’t going to earn you any points in diplomacy (and likely another lecture from Nana), you calmly explained.

“We fought against the same oppressors as you. Obviously, Nana and I weren’t there when the war happened, so I can’t give you a detailed description of what occurred,” You heard your Nana snort. “But Nana has told me the stories about how humans betrayed monsters— _they_ were the ones that started the war, but not all humans agreed with destroying monsters. And when the mages were called to help in humanity’s crusade to destroy you guys, there was a split between their faction—and we are that split,” you gestured to yourself and your Nana. “We believed in the peace you guys brought and wanted to coexist with you guys.”

“I mean, when you guys talk about mages, you know that they’re just humans that use magic right? We happen to be human and use magic, but like, the difference between witches and mages is that we actually _want_ coexistence with you guys—”

“—whereas mages,” Nana finished with a grave tone. “Wish for the opposite.”

An uneasy quiet filled the dining room as everyone continued to eat and mull over their own thoughts. You had finished the last of your stew and took a bite of your bread.

“S-so t-then,” Alphys suddenly spoke, her nervousness making her cow slightly by the attention she was given before she continued. “Y-you and M-ms. A-alene c-consider y-yourselves…w-witches?”

“Well, yeah.” You said.

“Y’mean like in an anime?!”

You choked mid-swallow, coughing through the sudden laughter that filled you. “W-what? No! I mean,” You gave it some thought. “I guess it would depend on the anime, but I mean, yeah? Kinda? It’s hard to explain…” You looked at Alphys, who appeared intrigued while Undyne held an eagerly curious expression, so you continued.

“We’re more or less seen as…like an open secret,” You tried to explain further at the confused look upon Undyne’s face. “Meaning that people know that witches exist, but we’re more or less seen as an eccentric spiritual path or cool fad to get into.” You rolled your eyes. “Which is better than being hunted and burned at the stake like back in the day, but since the turn of the twentieth century, we’ve slowly built our numbers back up. We don’t go around hexing people or turning any humans that piss us off— _sorry_ , into animals,” You corrected at your Nana’s look. “we’ve mostly kept a low profile. It actually benefits us, since nowadays people believe in science and facts more than magic, so we’re able to live out our lives virtually undetected, for the most part.”

“Damn.” Undyne said with disappointment. “That would’ve been cool if you could use your magic whenever you wanted.”

Well, you couldn’t argue with that.

Suddenly your Nana spoke. “I do not know if there are any other monsters that survived the war that remember us,” Nana said quietly. “Many friends that my great-great-great-great grandmother had perished in battle. But she and her family have survived, passing the stories of the war between humans and monsters and how the mages played their role. When it was safe for us to return, we bought the land that surrounds the mountain, so that when the barrier did come down, we could prepare your welcome.”

“I never imagined,” she continued, her voice growing soft with emotion. “That the barrier that trapped you all underneath that _goddamn_ mountain would finally shatter in my lifetime. But I am… _immensely_ relieved that you are finally freed.”

“Yeah.” You smiled at everyone. “It’s not just me and Nana that are here to help though!”

“She is right.” Nana said. “Eve and I are not the only witches that know about your existence. Your Majesty,” Tilted her head respectfully towards Asgore. “I would like to extend a formal invitation to you and your Ambassador the chance to meet with the Coven. I understand that you must do what is best for your people,” She added gently, noting the look of concern that crossed his features. “and as I said before, we witches wish only to coexist peacefully with monsters. Though the modern world has forgotten magic and mages, it does not mean that humans have become more tolerant. It is my hope that our two groups may come together so that we can introduce your kind to the rest of the world and have you all integrated with society as peacefully as possible.”

“I agree,” Asgore spoke deeply and with sincerity after a moment of quiet. “You and your granddaughter have shown thus far to be friends and allies to monsterkind. For that, I am eternally grateful. When is the meeting?”

“I make the calls tonight,” Nana replied. “However it will take the elder folks some time to travel to my home. At the latest, the meeting will begin tomorrow in the evening. Y’all are more than welcome to stay in my home as long as you need.”

“Oh Alene, you’re too kind!” Toriel said with surprise in her eyes. “We wouldn’t want to impose—”

“Bah! Nonsense!” came Nana’s dismissive bark. “The sleeping situation may be a bit tight, but my home is your home if you would have it, an’ as long as you’re here, the wards around my lands will protect y’all from anyone seekin’ t’ harm ya. You have my word on that account.”

Nana’s assurance and extension of shelter seemed to win over the rest of the group, and you felt relief knowing that Nana wouldn’t send them out into the world with only the clothes on their backs. You felt pride knowing that she was willing to do whatever it took to ensure that these monsters had the best chance at forging a life of their own making on the surface.

As questions were exchanged between the older monsters and your grandmother, you noticed that Frisk looked on with a lost look upon their face. You felt sympathy for their plight and carefully nudged them to gain their attention.

“Don’t worry. Nana’s the high priestess in the Coven,” you leaned close to whispered to Frisk, who silently watched your conversation with the others before they looked at you questioningly. “Which means she’s the boss. She’ll watch out for you guys and do anything she can to protect you until you guys are settled down on the surface, okay?”

A look of understanding crossed their features before they nodded and began typing on their phone.

> **Frisk:** _Will you be at the meeting?_

“No,” You replied with a shake of your head. “I can’t come with you to the meeting. But don’t worry, Nana will be there to help.”

> **Frisk:** _How come?_

“Because technically, I’m still in training,” You explained. “Even though I’ve _already_ completed my courses _and_ received high marks on the technical jargon,” You shot your grandmother a pointed look as you went on. “I need my mentor’s approval before I can officially become a part of the Coven.”

“Which you will, in time,” Nana stated loftily. “But until then, you will just need to be patient. You still have The Last Trial to complete.”

“Yeah, don’t remind me.” you muttered moodily. “I still think it’s stupid…”

“It builds character, little one,” You heard her say as you scrunched your nose in distaste. “Every witch in the Coven has had to undergo The Last Trial themselves and everyone triumphed. I know you will do the same.”

“…yeah, I guess.” You reluctantly agreed after a moment. You still thought it was unnecessary, but you weren’t going to argue her point.

“Is this ‘Last Trial’ a test?” Toriel asked curiously. She had watched your exchange with your grandmother and Frisk for some time without comment. You felt bad for some reason, like you unintentionally excluded her from the conversation. Seeking to rectify this, you looked at her and answered with a smile.

“Kinda. It’s sort of like community service that’s assigned by the High Priestess and her council,” You began with a shrug of your shoulders. “Devotee’s, like myself, need to train to control their magic with a seasoned witch so that we can practice in safety in case something goes wrong. But once they feel that you have enough control over your magic, you’re given tests to gauge how much magic you have—”

“Which you’ll need to work on your stamina more little one.” Interjected Nana, to which you ignored.

“—and how well your control is. If you pass, you move on to prove your service to the Coven by performing The Last Trial. If you succeed, you become a member.”

“I see,” Toriel appeared intrigued enough by your explanation that she then asked. “And you have already completed your tests?”

“Oh yeah,” You grinned infectiously. “I kicked all the Devotee’s ass—sorry Nana” you added quickly at the look in Nana’s eyes. “I even finished before them, so I’m kinda on a break until the others are done. Speaking of which—”

“Aye yes, you’ll know when your trail will come when I’m damn good an’ ready,” Nana waved her hand impatiently with an exasperated look on her face that didn’t betray her amusement. “You’re a worse nag than Tanja.”

“At least Tanja can get you to _do_ things.” You shot back, to which your Nana cackled and gave you a toothy grin.

“You hush up now,” Nana growled out playfully. “Or you’ll get no dessert from me.”

“Yes ma’am.” You replied demurely, grinning widely at the snickers you heard next to you. You looked at the corner of your eye at Frisk who struggled to contain their laughter and you gave a sassy wink before joining their laughter.

The rest of the meal continued with light conversation that went on between the monsters and humans. You felt peace as you settled against the back of your chair, the weight of the days events slowly sliding off your shoulders. It felt like you had lived through years of stress in a single bound instead of enduring a moment of anxiety.

But it was worth it.

You looked around the table and let a small smile grace your lips. If you could spend the rest of your days just like this, then that was all you needed.

With a belly full of food and a soul replenished with magic, you covered the yawn that crept up on you, sleepiness leaving you lethargic and listless. A glance at the clock hanging from the wall told you the time was 8:47pm. It wasn’t quite late yet, but you could feel the toll that the days stress left upon you bare down upon your shoulders.

You stood up and took the empty bowls from around the table

“Alene, you and Eve have been so gracious,” You heard Toriel say. “I feel that I must return the favor.”

* _Frisk asks her to make her to make her famous pie._

You blinked owlishly at the child sitting in Toriel’s lap. “What sort of pie is it?”

“It’s a butterscotch cinnamon pie!” Toriel replied excitedly. “It is one of my specialties—next to my snail pie, of course!”

“I’d love to try your butterscotch cinnamon pie,” you answered quickly, noting the look of nausea that appeared on Frisks face. You couldn’t blame them—that snail pie did _not_ sound appetizing at all. “I can go into town tomorrow to get the supplies if you like.”

“Oh Eve, are you sure?”

“It’s no problem,” you said. “Besides, I can take Frisk into town to get them a change of clothes and other supplies until you guys are settled in.”

“I suppose…” Toriel looked down at Frisk worriedly before looking at you. “I will make a list for the ingredients then.”

You gave Toriel a reassuring smile. “Sounds great!”

As you turned to take the rest of the dishes back into the kitchen, Frisk looked at the elder woman, catching her eye to show her their phone screen.

> **Frisk:** _Can I invite someone to come to the meeting with me?_

“If that’s what you’d like, I see no reason to refuse you. I should like to mention, Frisk,” came your grandmother’s gentle rasp. “That since you are the appointed Ambassador, you may request to have a guest accompany you to the meeting. The same is also true to you as well, Your Majesty. But keep in mind of who you invite.”

> **Frisk:** _Then I’d like to invite Eve to come._

Nana remained silent to Frisks request, though a slight twinkle in her eyes betrayed her even tone. “If that is what you wish, then I can’t refuse.”

Frisk merely grinned and nodded.

> **Frisk:** _Thanks Nana!_

“Bring out the cake sunshine!” Nana called after you in the kitchen with a wicked laugh. “Unlike me, the night’s still young, so let’s celebrate!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never done the Genocide route ever in my life and I never will because I'm a baby unu  
> But I like to think that if I _did_ I'd abort it as soon as I faced Sans just because he'd beat the shit out of me enough times to make me give up.


	8. The Witching Hour.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As everyone settles in for the night, you take a moment for yourself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone-- I hope y'all are safe and well!
> 
> Oof. So a few things with this chapter:
> 
> I felt it's important that there be several perspectives because I like knowing what other characters think and feel about the situation around them. And while this story is mainly from Eve's perspective, as a writer I'm trying to keep things interesting so that y'all aren't bored. It also gives me a bit of a break and keeps things from falling into a monotonous pattern story-telling wise. It's one of my biggest hang-ups, but I recognize that maybe other writers experience this feeling too, so I will try not to let myself feel down.
> 
> As a bit of a personal update, I am trying to apply for a job that allows me to work from home and isn't draining my energy as much. It's part of the reason why the recent updates are so long, and because I'm a perfectionist lol. So far nothing has turned up yet but I'm still looking, so fingers crossed I find something soon!
> 
> Lastly, I want to thank you all for the comments and kudo's left behind so far-- I cannot begin to tell you how happy and encouraging it is for me to see feedback and it lets me know that this story _does_ attract attention and is actually read! Like! I'm so! Excited! That y'all like this story and I'm glad! It's gratifying to me and it keeps me going, which I appreciate a lot.
> 
> Thank you for your support and for sticking around, you guys are awesome.
> 
> Please enjoy!

With the cake consumed, Asgore bid everyone good night while announcing solemnly that he would be heading back to the Underground. He graciously declined Nana’s invitation for him to spend the night at the cottage, yet he promised that he would return back in the morning after he addressed the situation with his people.

You could understand, given Asgore’s position as ruler of the monsters, why he couldn’t remain with the rest of his companions. He had a responsibility to the wellbeing of his people that you knew he took very seriously—to leave them for long without word of what the surface world was like would have been the height of disrespectful—which was why it was necessary for him to return. You couldn’t imagine how many monsters remained Underground, but you had a guess that it would be a lot. With so many denizens to lead, it was clear to you that the coming days of transitioning his people to living up on the surface was going to be an arduous process.

And that was just the tip of the iceberg.

You didn’t envy Asgore of his duty, but you were relieved that your grandmother’s quick thinking provided him the support he would need. It was a small comfort and just a small step towards providing the monsters the best quality of life on the surface. But it _was_ a step.

Breaking the news out to them to let them know that humanity might not all be so welcoming would be disheartening. But knowing that there were _some_ humans that were friendly to the presence of monsters, not just tolerant but _welcoming_ , was a sign that there was hope at least. You knew your grandmother: once she set out to do something, she would see that the task be done, one way or another.

You were on clean up duty, but you managed to give the monarch a cheerful goodbye before you went to the kitchen. You took your time washing and rinsing the dishes to be laid out on the drying rack while you observed Asgore and Nana on the porch from the kitchen window. You had the impression that Asgore was as reluctant to leave as Nana was to see him leave, which brought a small smile to your face. Whether that was due to the good food or conversation remained to be seen; you did notice that Nana seemed quite taken by him. You weren’t sure what to make of the way your grandmother acted, but you didn’t think it would bring any harm, so you brushed it aside.

From the way they both seemed to lean into each other, their heads bent low in their own conversation, you were led to believe that their relations were on the cusp of becoming more than professional. But judging by the soft crinkle of Nana’s eyes and the fond expression from Asgore, you could tell the hit it off.

(Toriel seemed to notice the same thing, and you weren’t quite sure, but her eyes held an unreadable emotion in their depths. You couldn’t help but feel for her, even if you never experienced a relationship of the same magnitude as being married.)

From behind the kitchen window, you observed them while the moon hung high in the sky. It was endearing to see this great hulking monster cow his head down to place a small kiss to your grandmother’s hand. The parting words of farewell he gave her were _especially_ coo-worthy, given how your grandmother giggled like a schoolgirl (now _that_ was something you thought you would never see) at the gesture, she seemed to appreciate his charm. It made the goodbye reluctant for both parties, though the invitation for breakfast seemed to hasten Asgore to promise a swift return as soon as possible.

It was adorable and surreal.

* _They asked you if you would like help cleaning up._

Started by the echo you heard in your soul, you looked over your shoulder and smiled. “Sure hun,” you said to Frisk who approached you to stand next to you by the sink. “You can lay them on the drying rack for me.”

Frisk nodded and took the plate you handed them and carefully set it on the rack. You both worked in companionable quiet, all save for the sound of the sloshing of the water as you thoroughly cleaned the dishes. There weren’t a lot for you to do and you had become a master at washing dishes (no thanks to you sisters dumping their share on you to do), but the crock pot needed to be scrubbed before you set it flat on the kitchen counter. Once that was done, everything else fell into place. In a matter of moments, you were finished and went to dry your hands on the towel hanging from the refrigerator door when you noticed Frisk looking at you.

“What’s up hun?”

Nervously, the looked to the ground briefly while shuffling in place, picking at the edge of their stripped sweater. You merely waited, returning the towel back to its place and leaned back against the counter with your hands in your pockets.

* _They asked you if you were okay._

Oof.

You paused as you considered answering their quiet echo. That was a loaded question, with a number of different answers to give. You didn’t want to lie to them—lying didn’t serve a purpose and you wanted an open and honest relation with this child—but did not you want to burden them with unnecessary worry for your wellbeing. You had a feeling that Frisk was the type of kid that liked to solve every kind of problem they encountered, even at the cost of their own wellbeing. That particular stubbornness was admirable, but you knew that they couldn’t take on all of your problems on their own—no matter how determined they were, you had to handle your own affairs yourself.

You made a quick assessment of yourself, going over the obvious. Physically you were…better. Food certainly helped level your magic, and you were happy and relieved to have Nana home. Her presence brought you the stability you missed. With her here, you felt like you could handle anything with her watching your back.

But you were sure that what Frisk was asking had more to do with their companions.

You tilted your head back and closed your eyes for a moment. “Well, I’m not about to pass out, so that’s a start.” You said with a wry twist of your lips, deciding to follow your Nana’s age old saying that honesty was the best policy. “But if you’re asking how I feel about—” you made a vague hand gesture towards the dining room. “— _that_ , well, I’m okay. It’s still kinda sinking in, y’know?” You slowly opened your eyes and let your emotions shine through honestly. “I mean, I grew up knowing about monsters and magic, so it’s not _as_ shocking but…hearing about it is different from actually _seeing_ it, y’know?”

Frisk nodded understandingly.

* _They tell you that they understand and wanted to make sure you were okay._

“Thanks hun, I appreciate it.” You were touched by their consideration and compassion. “Are _you_ okay though? I know what you said, but be honest hun—how are you _really_?” Now that you had a moment together, you were able to properly take a look at Frisk for the first time. Although dinner held a meld of different conversations, it wasn’t lost on you the amount of the amount of food they ate; seeing them eat and enjoy your cooking certainly helped relieve the worry you felt for them, but the voraciousness of their appetite gave you a troubling indication that made your gut twist uncomfortably. You didn’t like the fact that they went hungry and you definitely didn’t like the weary state of them.

Their clothes were frayed at the edges and would need to be mended. You were almost positive too that they had not had a chance to bathe properly today (or at all—did the underground have good plumbing? Were showers even a thing if they could use magic?) and you were pretty certain they didn’t walk through the underground unscathed like they seemed.

“Look—y’don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to,” you continued when they didn’t say anything. “It’s none of my business anyways. I just want to make sure that you’re okay. I know you’ve got this, but if you ever need anything, just ask me or Nana and we’ll do what we can to help, no questions asked, okay?”

That seemed to get a reaction out of them, a slow nod was given to you before their expression quickly shifted from nervousness to relief.

* _They assure you that they’re okay and thank you for everything you have done._

“Don’t mention it,” you said breezily before rocking forward to step closer to Frisk. “Let’s get you washed up and changed before we start the movie okay? I’ll have your clothes cleaned by morning and then I’ll take you into town, if you like.”

You walked out of the kitchen with Frisk trailing behind, leading them down the hall to a small bathroom just before the foyer and the stairs. You opened the door and flicked on the light switch before opening a cabinet door where the towels were stored.

“I’ll get you a shirt and shorts to wear tonight,” you said while putting the towel on the bathroom counter. “Take your time, okay? We’ve got plenty of hot water.” Winking at them, you heard them giggle before you left, leaving them to their own devices while you went up the stairs. Alone in the hallway, you slowed your steps, passing the office and two guest rooms before you walked through the doorway to your room. You took a quiet moment to let the entirety of your situation settle over your shoulders before you calmly walked over to the edge of your bed and fell on top of the piled upon sheets. The fabric pressed against your nose and mouth, muffling your breath and the growing need to scream.

You avoided telling Frisk the whole truth of how you felt in order to spare them their feelings, but you were painfully overwhelmed by the whole ordeal. The fact that you managed to keep yourself together this long was a herculean feat in of itself, but even you had limits.

It was all too much, and the weight of the stress you felt pushed against your chest like you were being crushed.

The urge to cry out the stress and fear you had kept locked was let go carefully; quiet sobs soaked your sheets, the tear tracks on your cheeks leaving black stains that you carelessly wiped with your comforter. You couldn’t find it within yourself to care. You would wash your sheets in the morning anyways.

A little calmer now that the pressure inside you had eased, you sighed and sat up from your bed before you yelped at the sight of Toriel standing in the doorway, who held Frisk’s dirty clothes in her paws. It was obvious that she had caught you in a vulnerable state and was embarrassed by the discovery, but she tried to appear like everything was normal. You appreciated her attempt. She didn’t comment on the tears that stained your cheeks, to which you were grateful for even as the look of concern became clear to you.

“Forgive me, Eve,” she said gently. “I came to deliver these dirty clothes to you,” She lifted the bundle up for your inspection. “and to ask if I could speak to you for a moment in private. It concerns Frisk.”

“Of course! Please, come in.” At her brief hesitation, you made a welcoming gesture, bidding her to come in before she entered your room.

You settled yourself on the bed and waiting while Toriel looked around at the state of your room; the space heavily saturated with your magic and scent, along with the decorations lining the walls. Shelves full of books, figurines of your favorite characters and a scattered array of crystals were strewn at all corners of your room, even lining the windowsill where your desk faced. Band posters covered most of the opposite wall from your bed, while little fairy lights twinkled hither and thither behind your bedframe.

It was a chaotic mixture of blossoming girlhood, studious witchly and pragmatic young adult personas set in the form of objects and trinkets that held no personal significance to anyone except you. No one except your grandmother had ever seen your room before, and it dawned on you that this was the first time a monster was in your _room_ made you feel giddy.

“Sorry my room’s a mess,” you stated meekly, casting a woeful look at the clothes tossed on the ground. “Nana’s always on my case about keeping it clean. I guess now’s a good reason to keep it clean.”

Toriel laughed. “I won’t begrudge you for the state of your room, my dear. This is your space, and I will respect it. But I would heed your grandmother’s advice in the future.” The twinkle in her eye was the same you had seen whenever your grandmother was amused.

“Yes ma’am.” you replied sincerely.

Toriel approached the bed and sat beside you, her bigger form making the bed give a small whine of protest that you ignored. You had jumped on this bed when you were a kid—it could take your and Toriel’s weight, as long as you didn’t do any acrobatics. She took a moment to settle herself on the bed (probably to make sure that it wouldn’t break), setting aside Frisk’s clothes neatly while her paws smoothed the wrinkles of her robes before she spoke.

“I wanted to first thank you again for your hospitality,” Toriel began. “You and Alene have both been very accommodating and generous—and though the title holds little meaning in this case, as the former Queen of the Underground, while I do not have the means to repay you—”

You put your hand up to stop her. “Toriel, please, you don’t need to stand on ceremony with me. There’s no need to thank me or Nana for what we’ve done. It’s the right thing to do—and to be honest, it’s our duty.”

“Your duty?” Toriel blinked at you. “What do you mean?”

“I…” You paused to gather your thoughts to explain how you felt. It was a feeling that stuck with you ever since you were young; listening to Nana’s tale of the war between humans and monsters had always provoked a fierce sense of righteousness within you, the need to somehow right the wrongs done to monsters was something that never truly went away. And now that you were older and stronger (and you liked to think a _little_ bit wiser) and with monsters being freed, that feeling came to a head.

“Toriel…can I be honest with you?” You asked while fiddling with the ties to your jacket. At her nod, you took a breath before you started to speak. “When I was little, Nana told me the story about the war, about how the allies fought alongside the monsters against humans and the mages, and how you guys lost. Back then, hearing that story was my favorite, despite not knowing that it was a true story; every time I heard, I always thought about how unfair it was that monsters were treated, but I also got really angry at the allies for not doing more. I was a kid, so of course I didn’t understand what went on behind the scenes. But I remembered feeling like they should have done _more_.”

You laughed nervously, embarrassed by your confession but you continued speaking, finding yourself past the point of no return and committing to tell her your feelings.

“I don’t know if it’s the same for Nana but…I feel like we owe it to you all to do this. To help monsters live on the surface. It’s not out of obligation!” You said hastily, seeing the look of surprise on Toriel’s face. “I _want_ to help you guys! But…I guess I feel like I’m also trying to make things right you all. Like…maybe if we had, I dunno, tried harder to persuaded humans that you guys weren’t going to harm anyone then maybe…maybe the war wouldn’t have happened.” You hardened your gaze as anger took you. “If _we_ hadn’t failed you--”

“That’s not true Eve,” Toriel admonished gently. “What happened was no fault of the witches.”

“But—!” You argued. “If we had—"

“Eve.”

This time she quieted you by taking hold of your clenched hands, giving the tops of your hands a slow sweep of her thumbs against the skin. “I appreciate your passion and your commitment, but you mustn’t hold on to the past like this. What happened…was unfortunate.” The twist in her mouth conveyed so much more than what her words communicated. But you understood what she was trying to do, so you listened. “While I cannot honestly say that I forgive humans for what they have done, I can understand that it was fear and misunderstanding that caused a rift between our kind. But as you and your grandmother have proven, not all humans hold ill will towards us.” She looked at you and smiled.

“Your predecessors rose above the misconceptions thrown at us and chose to learn to coexist and understand our ways. But they must have realized that the rest of humanity had been poisoned by their fear and tried to do what they could to convince humans and mages to stop their attacks against us. The fact that they defended us and tried to save as many of us as possible is commendable, and it is something that most have not forgotten.”

“But—” She continued as you began to open your mouth. “You are not responsible for the failings of humanity or the mages, nor should you take the burden on yourself. You are also not responsible for what the witches have done—and have not done. You are only responsible for yourself and your actions alone.”

You nodded and Toriel let out a quiet sigh, a distant look in her eyes as she stared at your bedroom wall. “We can only combat these negative feelings with an open mind and with compassion. Hatred and ignorance will only create more violence, which will affect future generations of not just monsters, but humans as well.”

You mulled over her words for a moment before giving her a nod. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“I usually am, yes.” Toriel agreed with a bit of merriment in her tone, making you laugh. “Forgive this old woman—I’m afraid that once I start lecturing, I cannot seem to stop myself.”

“No worries,” You said with a grin. “I’ve got plenty of experience with being lectured, so you’re good Toriel.” You cleared your throat. “So now that we’ve got that depressing bit out of the way, you wanted to talk to me about Frisk?”

“Yes. I wanted to request your help,” The look of quiet concern on her face began to worry you as she spoke softly. “I would…like to ask you to watch out for them. You are the first that they have encountered since they left the underground that they trust. I have seen how fond they have become of you, and while I trust you and Alene…I worry about this meeting with your Coven. I am asking that you protect them from those that intend to harm them.”

That surprised you. You frowned a little as you turned over Toriel’s concern in your mind. From her perspective, you could understand why she would be nervous about letting her child meet with a group of witches without a guardian present, especially given that they would accompany the King. Given how estranged their relationship was, you were pretty sure that suggesting that Asgore watch over Frisk would receive skepticism from the monster mother. Plus there was also the fact that Asgore had asked Frisk to be their Ambassador—as King, he owed it to them to trust that they would do everything in their power to convince the humans that monsters had the right to live on the surface. Having Asgore present would ensure that Frisk was protected by a powerful monster, but it would also be seen as a silent threat, despite the Kings good intentions.

You were (almost) positive that the Coven would rally to help the monsters and assist Frisk in championing for monsters’ rights. But you couldn’t quite understand why Toriel wanted _you_ specifically to watch out for Frisk.

“…Toriel” You began hesitantly. “I’m…not sure I’m the best—"

“ _Please_.”

The excuse that formed in your throat died the moment that her desperate plea was released. Maybe it was the way that her hands suddenly clenched gently over your hands, or the widening of her eyes that showed the panic within their depths. But you felt her body quiver with suppressed emotion as she held you, and so you kept quiet and listened to her plea.

“Please…they’re all I have left,” she whispered. “They’re my only child I have. I have lost much underground, but I fear that the surface will take them away as surely as the underground would. I fear that Frisk will lose themselves in trying to fight for our kind’s livelihood. I would feel comfortable knowing that there is at least one other human that I trust watching out for their best interest.”

“But…I’m not part of the Coven,” you said weakly. “I can’t do anything for them, wouldn’t it be best to ask Nana?”

“You said yourself that she is the High Priestess of the Coven, correct?” At your nod, she let out a sad smile. “Then she would be bound by the interests of the Coven. While she does hold a position of power, that power limits her. Believe me,” she said with a wry twist to her mouth. “I am quite familiar with the politics of being a leader. I was married to one, once. Being a leader means putting the needs of the many above your own desires—even your loved ones. In order to keep her position, she would need to adhere to the voices of her peers, even if they go against our interests.”

“I…guess that makes sense,” You said slowly. “But still…you just met me today. Why would you trust me with your child?”

Her finger came up and gently touched your sternum, presumably to where your soul resided. “Because of your soul. You are kind, caring, compassionate and honest to a fault,” she said with a smile. “Though I do not need to pull you into an encounter to tell you that. You were kind to Froggit and Whimsun when others would have condemned and ridiculed them. You spoke with them as if they were your equal, just as Frisk does. But more importantly, it is because Frisk likes and trusts you.”

Distant sounds of conversation and excited shouts sounded from downstairs that told you that the rest of your guests had finished up their dessert. You remembered your original reason for coming up to your room. Frisk must already have finished bathing right about now, you had left them alone for only a brief moment, but it was long enough to have your conversation with Toriel.

You considered her words and thought about what she was asking. From a political standpoint (you couldn’t believe that you were heading into _that_ sort of territory), it was advantageous of the former Queen to enlist your help. You weren’t affiliated with the Coven officially, but you weren’t tied to any human government assembly either. And while your grandmother was the High Priestess, Toriel was right: she would need to put the Coven before her desires, and not even you could persuade her otherwise.

You were a neutral party that had no stake in the game, so to speak, so you were a safer choice.

But the idea of being responsible for someone, let alone a _child_ still made you feel uneasy. It didn’t help that said child was the _Ambassador_ to the _former Queen_ of monsterkind, but you suppose Toriel’s request wasn’t coming from a place of political interest. It was coming from a familial place of worry, the same kind that Nana had for you.

_Ah hell…_

You sighed and ran your hand through your hair before you looked at Toriel. “Look…I can’t promise anything,” you said. “But…I’ll do what I can to make sure Frisk isn’t taken advantage of. I can’t do much since I’m just a Devotee, but I promise that I’ll watch out for them.”

“Thank you,” The relief changed her expression, softening it that you could swear that you almost saw tears in her eyes. “Angel bless you, Eve. I cannot begin to tell you the relief I feel knowing you are looking out for Frisk.” To your surprise she swept you in her arms and pulled you into a firm hug, the unexpectedness of the movement making you stiffen before you slowly relaxed enough to return the gesture. You took in the comfort, secretly delighting in how cared for and safe you felt in her arms. It reminded you of hugging your Nana, only it was bigger and softer.

“D-don’t mention it,” you murmured, giving into a momentary weakness of rubbing your cheek against her fur before you slowly pulled away. It tickled against your skin pleasantly—though you fought against the urge to fall back against her and bury your face against her fur. Toriel let you go with a look of embarrassment, a soft pink glowing across the top of her cheeks.

“My apologies,” she flushed and let out a quick laugh. “I should have asked you if that was okay.”

“No it’s okay! I love hugs,” you said with a blush. “Um, if its alright with you, could I ask for them in the future?”

Toriel blinked before her mouth split into a wide smile. “Of course, my dear.” She said gently.

You returned the smile before you cleared your throat and looked towards your closet. “I was originally supposed to find Frisk some clothes for them to wear tonight,” you explained sheepishly (heh.) with a shrug of your shoulders. “I have an old t-shirt and shorts they can wear until I take them into town tomorrow. Has Nana talked to you about the sleeping arrangements yet?”

“She has offered Frisk and myself the guest room next to yours,” She nodded her head towards the wall where the head of your bed rested. “Undyne and Alphys will head back to the Underground after the movie, but Papyrus and Sans have decided to stay the night and will sleep in the guest room next to mine.”

You nodded your head affirmingly. “Alright, sounds good—don’t worry about getting up early,” You added, quirking your lip up in amusement. “The sunlight won’t shine directly in your room, so you don’t have to worry about being blinded.” You both shared a quiet laugh before you got up and dug out the clothes you thought would fit Frisk. They would be a little too big on them, but they would be comfortable enough for them to wear until their own clothes were clean. “These should fit.” You turned and presented them to Toriel, who took the bundle and gathered them against her chest.

“I shall go take these to Frisk and meet you downstairs then.” Toriel stood up and walked towards your door. You made an affirming noise as you heard the sound of Toriel’s footsteps walk the long hall and down the stairs. When you could no longer hear their heavy beat, you quickly closed the door and sighed.

You threw your clothes off and changed into something loose before throwing your jacket over your desk chair. Gathering your dirty clothes on the ground, you piled them haphazardly on top of your laundry basket. You snatched Frisks clothes from the end of your bed and set them on top of the pile before you stood back and studied your handiwork. A few articles of clothing slowly fell from the pile and you shrugged to yourself. You would deal with it all in the morning when you woke up.

Satisfied that your room was clean enough, you left your room without a backward glance.

* * *

Just as you had promised, you led Frisk into the living room to watch _Hocus Pocus_ after meeting them in the hallway bathroom. Fresh-faced from the shower, they exited the steam-filled space with a grin on their face and hair damp and clinging to their skull like a mop, which made you giggle to yourself. It was cute seeing Frisk look like a kid and it made you feel that your promise to Toriel was well worth keeping.

To your surprised delight, Toriel joined you both with an expressed interest in learning about ‘witches’ culture’, which made you laugh. This in turn brought Undyne, Alphys and Papyrus to join in the fun. You didn’t see Sans or Nana, but you figured that they would come back soon, so you started the movie and watched the opening credits appear on the tv. You sat on the couch with Frisk sitting to your right and Toriel on your left.

Papyrus managed to squeeze himself beside Frisk, but Frisk got off and decided to climb on his lap to settle down. Undyne chose to sit on the floor in front of the couch, and to your amusement had pulled Alphys close, setting the monster in her lap. From your seat you could see how red her skin turned. You caught Alphys’s eyes and gave her a wink before you focused on the movie, chuckling as you made your commentary, quoting lines from the movie and explaining certain phrases to the other monsters when they asked you a question.

The domesticity of the situation was not lost on you, which elicited a warm, happy feeling inside you. It reminded you of the time you spent with your Nana and your family before things went wrong.

( _ ~~Before you ruined everything.~~_ )

You basked in this feeling for most of the movie, enjoying the revelry and laughter shared between you, Frisk, and the gathering of monsters. The only thing that could have made this night even better was if you had a glass of your grandmother’s mead before bed. Your mouth watered at the thought, but you didn’t want to be rude and not offer the other adults a glass. You knew Toriel was older (you assumed at least, but you didn’t want to be rude and ask exactly _how_ old she was), but the others you weren’t so sure.

The Sanderson sisters were shrieking in fright as the little yorkie chased them out of the Devil’s house when you began to worry about Nana and Sans. The last time you saw Nana was outside on the porch saying goodbye to Asgore, but you hadn’t seen Sans since dinner. If you were going to share mead with everyone, you didn’t want to start without them.

“Are Sans and Nana still out back?” You asked, looking at Toriel who frowned thoughtfully.

“I believe Alene and Sans went to escort Asgore back up the mountain,” she replied. “They should be on their way back.”

“Weird, I could have sworn Asgore left by himself.” You frowned to yourself. Maybe you missed them leaving with Asgore when Frisk came to ask you to help with the dishes?

“DO NOT WORRY HUMAN-EVE! SANS WOULD HAVE TAKEN THEM BACK BY USING HIS SHORTCUTS,” Papyrus explained at your worried look. “WHILE MY BROTHER IS INCREDIABLY LAZY, HE DOES HIS BEST TO MAKE SURE THOSE HE CARES ABOUT ARE SAFE! HE WOULD WANT TO GET BACK TO THE HOUSE AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE—IF ONLY TO TAKE A NAP!”

Papyrus’s assurance should have put the unease in your chest to rest, but you could shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. You didn’t want to believe the worst, but you remembered the look that Sans had directed your grandmother when she had cast her spell. It had been a brief glimpse, but you knew that despite the easy demeanor that Sans gave off, he was a force to be reckoned with.

Your grandmother could take care of herself. But that didn’t mean you would allow anything to happen to her—not if you could be there to stop it.

“I’m gonna go check on them really quick,” you stood up and carefully crossed the living room to head towards the kitchen where the door to the back porch was.

“Hurry up punk!” you heard Undyne call after you before laughing at a scene from the movie. Probably the part where Dani explained to her mom that Max is a virgin and had lit the black flamed candle.

You shivered as you stepped out the door, wishing you had grabbed your jacket. You didn’t want to waste your magic to keep yourself warm, so you steeled yourself and began to walk back through the garden towards the edge of the forest.

You hoped you would find them okay.

* * *

In her long life on this Earth, Alene had seen many wonders that few could scarcely believe. Her repertoire of experience and knowledge, both mundane and magical were noteworthy to the simpletons that cared about such things. But Alene found that these things hardly did her any good and weren’t as important as the bonds that were made while pursuing such endeavors.

It wasn’t what you knew, but _who_ you knew.

And Alene knew many people.

It was one of the reasons why she was appointed High Priestess, though she was damned to know why. There were certainly witches that coveted the title of High Priestess that were far more deserving, but through a twist of fate or luck’s meddling hand, the title and all the unwanted glory somehow fell in her lap. And since then, her life came with a torrent of obligations that brought her more headaches than she cared to deal with.

It wasn’t all bad though. You having access to knowledge that few Devotee’s ever dreamed of reading to help with your training was just one of the perks, as well as the godawful amount of money her status afforded her. While her position of power had been nothing but a thorn in her side, it brought a slight amount of good in making your life easier, and those times made it worth giving a damn. If it weren’t for Tanja convincing her to take the position, Alene was certain she would have passed the title on to someone who was better suited. But there were perks that Alene could appreciate, and one was calling the Coven back to convene back to Ebott.

A bittersweet smile twisted her lips. It didn’t take her magic to give her insight of what the coming days were about to entail for her and her granddaughter. She knew, from the moment she landed at the airport not far from Ebott, that the tremors that shook the ground weren’t made from the earth, but of magic. Alene felt the premonition of the barrier shattering and monsters breaking free long after the eighth child had disappeared from the mountain. It was only a matter of time, however unexpected it was to have it happen on Samhain, it was nevertheless a discovery that had a cause for celebration.

It was an unfortunate business that Alene had long since learned to accept that the breaking of the barrier would require the soul of both man and monster to break. Much about the history of the war and the creation of the barrier had all but scattered and was hard to track down as it was. But the spell that the mages created to trap the monsters underground had a clause that required a sacrifice-- and that sacrifice centered around the soul.

Originally it was just a theory, but as the years went on and the disappearances that centered around the mountain began to gain notoriety, Alene knew that it was only a matter of time before the monsters would break free. What concerned Alene most was the length of time it took for the barrier to shatter—theoretically, only one soul from a human and a monster should have had enough power to break it. That was what she had discerned from her records at least, but there were too many irregularities.

It wasn’t until the second disappearance that Alene began to document what occurred on the mountain and record what occurred with the barrier. With growing dread and a feeling of horror, Alene started to realize that the disappearances that occurred on Mount Ebott were no mere coincidence—and her theory was proven correct when she had approached the entrance of the Underground.

It was faint, but she could detect a residual magic that the barrier had left behind and she was startled to find that the makeup of this magic was _old_. That was expected, but what shocked her was that there were multiple signatures that were present—a total of eight.

The texts that she poured over told of seven mages that erected the barrier to seal the monsters under the mountain. This was common knowledge among the Coven and was a subject of debate between the elders; the mages of old had split when the war came to a head, causing a dividing faction of the mages, who were for eradicating the monsters and the witches, who were against the violent actions perpetrated by humanity.

When the war had ended with the monsters surrendering, the seven mages summoned by the nations had cast a spell to seal them. But with this eighth signature, Alene was left to ponder; if the barrier’s purpose was originally to keep the monsters trapped underground, then was the eighth signature woven in the spell a clause? Or perhaps a witch had managed to change the codex of the spell and inserted their signature in for a human to _enter_ the underground? It was likely done with the intent for the witches to flee the Underground to free their monster allies, but that would not have happened: their exile forced them to flee Ebott.

So perhaps this signature had changed to lure humans with specific traits? What if the magic emitting from the barrier put out a call to lure an intended soul to fall down the mountain? Obviously, the call was not strong enough to compel any human that hiked through the Ebott National Forest, but what if the spell targeted humans that met a certain requirement?

Alene knew there was a commonality with the missing humans that disappeared from Mount Ebott: all of them were children of varying backgrounds and ethnicities. But it was the fact that they were _children_ that made unease twist inside her soul: a child’s soul was ripe with magic, wild and unstable, yet eager for stimulation and attention. Regardless of whether or not these children happened to have the capacity to properly wield such power, it fell to reason that these children would have encountered the monsters at some point.

It would explain why there were so many disappearances, but this brought on an uncomfortable question:

_What happened to the other souls before the barrier shattered? And why was Frisk the only one that emerged?_

Alene had tried for years to find a solution to break the barrier without the need for any human to enter the mountain. For generations, the Coven had researched and studied ways to break the barrier without that sacrifice. She was at the head of this research, tirelessly going through the archives and tomes recounting all possible spells that were stolen from the mages before their faction had split, only for it to lead to a dead end. Alene had advocated the need for more knowledge, to find a codex of the original spell that sealed the monsters, but to her frustration the Coven had blocked her every move with one excuse or another. Too costly and not enough manpower, with a push to divert their attention to matters that involved fattening their treasury and keeping their lives lavish.

 _What a crock of shit_.

Alene knew the truth: the witches of this generation simply abandoned their duty in favor of keeping their vices sated and close. They lost hope and forgot their oaths, abandoning their purpose for the fleeting pleasures that their position granted them. But not her. Not while the guilt and helplessness of preventing another soul to fall underground drove her to look for other solutions without blood being spilled.

(The need to free her ancestor’s ally and friend, without another child dying by their hands filled her with determination.)

Tanja’s cheeky voice chimed in her head to remind her that her passion was what kept the Coven from dissolving into chaos. ‘ _You know damn well that without you leading the charge, we’d have died off long ago,_ ’ she had told you when it was just the two of you.

Alene would snort disbelievingly. ‘ _Only because my name’s got weight to it._ ’

‘ _Nah don’t give me that shit,_ ’ She would reply back with sass. ‘ _You’ve never thrown your weight around to get what you wanted. You proved it with your actions and your might, an’ you know it. That’s why the Coven follows you. You have an integrity about you that they respect, even if they don’t like that you don’t adhere to tradition._ ’

‘ _That’s cause they’re a bunch of stuffy idiots._ ’

‘ _See—that’s the reason why they don’t like ya!_ ’

It was an argument Alene would rehash with that woman time and time again, though as the years went on, even repeated arguments held a certain fondness that she couldn’t help but appreciate. She would need Tanja in her corner now more than ever, not just for her council and wit, but for the days of strife that would darken her doorstep.

She worried most about you and how you would handle the coming responsibility that would be demanded of you.

Alene had yet to truly explain what would happen once the Coven was summoned. If it had been her choice, she would have kept you out of the whole affair entirely. But you had inserted yourself right in the middle of the mess, and Alene had no choice but to allow you to take responsibility for the actions set in motion. Words could not begin to express how _proud_ she felt, seeing how you conducted yourself and how you mitigated the fears and worries that the King held, despite your own anxiety and uncertainty, you waded through the turbulent and unfamiliar territory of the first (albeit unofficial) monster-human relation ever conducted.

You were becoming quite the young woman.

Affection and love renewed her soul at the thought of you, of your cheeky wit, the sarcasm you had adopted from Alene and made it your own, the growing independence and headstrong manner that made you such a force to be reckoned with. Alene almost felt pity for the poor soul (or souls) that would tie themselves to you, but then again, if they couldn’t love you and all that you were, then they were not worthy to even stand in your shadow.

Of course she knew that you could handle yourself. Stars above, you were so different from when you had been a child; no longer meek and timid, you stood proud and confident and though you fell back to your hesitant tendencies when in an uncomfortable situation, you bounced back right away.

Alene couldn’t have been more proud, especially with how you handled the monster guests that settled at the table. Your social skills weren’t world class, sure and that was partially Alene’s fault (she preferred frank conversation, no double-meaning or backhanded comments) that you had adopted a lot of her…bad habits. But you handled it well, even if it pained the older woman to see your anxiety strain your eyes and ripple a disquieting song in your soul.

You always could never hide how you truly felt, even when you could intimidate a seasoned marine with a stare. Your soul always gave away the state of your emotions and was as easy to read as breathing. Alene had never bothered to teach you when you were younger on how to hide it considering how your…family had treated you and your frail emotional state. Now it seemed Alene would need to deliver one last lesson to you before you could begin The Last Trial.

None of her thoughts showed on your face as you watched the King Asgore approach the entrance of the Underground. At a glance, her face appeared pleasantly neutral with nothing betraying the worries that clouded her thoughts. As Alene bid him another polite but soft farewell, she turned to walk back down the trail with Sans following behind at an ambled pace. Neither she nor the skeleton said anything as you both descended down the mountain, though she was positive that it had more to do with conserving energy from the ‘shortcut’ Sans had initiated than from a lack of engaging in polite conversation.

That was fine with Alene though. The night was beautiful and the walk back down the mountain would do her some good.

The decent down the mountain was traveled carefully. She couldn’t see in the dark, but Alene could sense her wards and they were the beacon that guided her back to her cottage at the base of the mountain. As the slope slowly leveled and the ground began to plateau enough that walking became easier on her stride, a puffed sigh escaped her lips before she stood to bend her back, her hands placed against the base of her spine to stretch the sore muscles while at the same time her gaze caught sight of the swollen moon glowing in the night sky.

“I’ll never get tired of seein’ it,” she murmured.

“neither will i.”

Alene tilted her head towards Sans, acknowledging his statement without comment. For a skeleton, he seemed rather quiet. She half-expected his bones to rattle with every step, but then again magic always had a hand in helping explain the unexplainable in her eyes, so she didn’t bother to question the reason behind the physicality of his sub-species. There were still theories debated today about how mages (and by extension, witches) came to exist with magic in their souls, but there were never easy explanations when it came to humans.

At least monster’s origins were simple.

Relief flooded her as the path began to ebb, the wildness of the forest giving way to the imitated path made by the countless footsteps of the animals and, occasionally, the interference of man. Alene was familiar with this path but judging by the ribbons of magic that she could see lingering in the air, her granddaughter traversed this path frequently enough that her signature could be traced all the way back to the house. She knew what lay deep within the forest was the meadow that her granddaughter had found. It was perhaps the only piece of the forest that Alene had knew and left alone, if only to give Eve her own space, aside from her room.

That piece of nature would be the sanctuary Eve would turn to in the days to come, Alene suspected. Somewhere separated from what grounded her from the chaos of the coming changes, and if she knew her granddaughter like she did, Eve would seek out her meadow in order to center herself. Her granddaughter was still coming into her own soul signature and magic, but Alene feared that the pressure from her expectations would do more harm than good.

The last thing Alene wished was for her hopes of you developing your magic to defeat you before you presented yourself before the Coven. Especially with your Last Trial approaching.

A frown wrinkled the skin of Alene’s forehead at the thought of having to discuss _that_ matter with the Coven. The Last Trial was always a stressful and stuffy affair as far as she was concerned, but the timing was unprecedented—and not just due to the monster’s emergence, but due to the fact that it was her granddaughter’s Last Trial. It would draw a lot of attention upon Eve, and while some of it would be good, the later was what Alene worried about. There was nothing she could do to silence the spiteful and negative voices that sought to tear Eve down, but Alene trusted her granddaughter to be able to stand on her own. She had raised her with a little bit more steel in her spine, and if her clever (if albeit foul) mouth was any indication, it was that any verbal barb Eve received would be returned—with interest.

The thought brought a quirk to Alene’s lips that she quickly hid as she approached the gates of her property. It would not do well to allow her thoughts to linger too far ahead of the future, especially after just coming home from her trip. There was plenty of time to discuss her granddaughter’s trial tomorrow, but for now, Alene wanted nothing more than to curl up on the couch in the sunroom with a cup of mead and smoke from her pipe.

Another thought occurred to her and she paused long enough to turn to look at her silent companion.

“Sans, was it?” Alene took in the shorter monster’s relaxed stature with a contemplating look before speaking again. “Would you mind if I picked at your skull a bit? I just have a question that I’m curious about.”

His expression didn’t change much from what she could tell, but Alene knew that she had his attention, if the way he stood was any indication; he seemed as relaxed as before, but there was air about him that made Alene mentally pause. She had no reason to fear this monster any more than Asgore or the other monsters. But that did not mean that Alene was blind to the subtle way the skeleton conducted himself. She had not been blind to the shock she had caught a glimpse of when she had cast her spell, nor did she mistake the hostile intent in his sharpened grin and blank eye sockets.

Alene knew that Sans mistrusted her—which given the circumstances, was understandable to the old woman. It was a lot to take in, that monsters and witches (who were once mages, but a separate faction of the group that tried to eradicate them) had once been allies. But if their history was anything to go by, Alene needed to air out any grievances this monster had against her and her kind—human or witch, it didn’t matter, as long as she could put any unease to rest—before they could move forward with their goal.

So with tempered patience, she spoke.

“Were you aware of my wards before, or after you met my granddaughter?”

By the look of surprise on his face, she guessed that he didn’t think Alene would be so blunt—hah, well she never said she would ease into her questions. No, it was better to tackle the issue head-on.

“…a bit of both.” Sans answered, narrowing his eyes at Alene consideringly. “Pap an’ i explored the mountain in search of other humans before Frisk called us. they described where they were located before i took a shortcut. we appeared just outside the border of the woods, so i didn’t notice them at first.”

Alene hummed. “Your shortcuts depend on what path you can see, yes?”

“yeah,” Sans replied slowly. “or i can envision the path clearly enough that i know where i’m going.”

That he was willing to volunteer this much information about his magic told Alene that Sans was willing to cooperate. Good. He wasn’t a fool, which made everything easier. There was a question that was hanging in the air that Alene caught and answered before Sans could open his mouth. “I may not be as old as monsters,” Alene answered his unspoken inquiry gently. “But my ancestors were very well acquainted with the magic that monsters wielded and have recorded much of the knowledge they learned from your kind. Your subspecies is not unheard of, but like your magic, it is very rare.”

“The reason I tell you this,” she continued when it looked like Sans would continue to let her speak. “Is because I will need to recreate my wards to allow you access on my property—you were lucky that you were didn’t take a shortcut on the other side of the border or you would have had a nasty surprise in store for you and your brother. I would prefer to prevent any misunderstandings before they occur, so if it isn’t to much trouble, I’d like your help.”

She waited and watched the skeleton watch her. For a time, the quiet sound of a breeze drifted and caressed the trees and vegetation from her garden, drawing a whisper of sound that sounded like a sigh. The sky was clear as the moon shone high in the late night, casting just enough light between them to make out the garden tunnel but leaving deep shadows that would have been a foreboding sight if not for the porch light that shined in the distance.

At some point Sans must have reached a decision because he suddenly shrugged his shoulders while keeping his hands deep in his pockets, his posture conveying a relaxed pose.

“s’fine by me,” he drawled. “d’you need my brother too?”

She considered that a moment, then shook her head. “No. I’ll just tie a clause to the ward. But if it becomes necessary later, I will ask Papyrus for his assistance.”

He nodded. “alright.”

Alene turned away from the gates to walk back to the middle of the clearing between the property and the edge of the forest. She didn’t look back to see if he followed, but she didn’t need to—as soon as she stopped to turn around, he was in front of her standing just a few feet away.

What she was about to do would require a lot of concentration and a helluva lot of magic. It was one thing to cast wards or calibrate them, but it was a different animal entirely to change the structure of the wards without breaking down the source. Adding an additional signature was strenuous, but Alene had lived a long time to be wary of overexerting herself. It helped that Sans was willing to pool his own magic for this purpose, because otherwise the after effects of this spell would have rendered her incapacitated.

“What we’re about to do is simple,” she explained. “The goal is to add your magical signature to the wards so that you can shortcut on the property without the wards rendering you immobile. They’re designed this way, but since y’seem inclined to use your abilities freely, it will also allow you to enter the house, to a point.” She then extended her arms out, her palms facing up. “What I need from you is to summon your magic and hold your intent in your mind: think about how you shortcut and why you are coming to the house. Think about what coming inside the house means to you—then keep this intent up as long as possible until I tell you to release your magic.”

Sans looked between her extended palms and her face, not making any further moves.

Alene then gestured for Sans to take her extremities. “It’s faster this way.” She said as a way of explaining. “I promise, this won’t hurt you. My magic does not cause pain—well,” she amended with a small smile. “Not intentionally at least.”

He appeared to consider that before his hesitation left him and he withdrew his hands from his hoodie to lay his boney hands atop her weathered palms. Unexpectedly, he was warm for a skeleton. Likely another attribute to his magic—or perhaps that was more due to his monstrous composition. A beat passed before Alene closed her eyes and slowly drew in a deep breath, the ribs of her torso quivering as her diaphragm tightened to draw in the residual oxygen and magic lingering in the air. The hiss of her exhale whispered quietly in the night before magic welled deep inside her soul and gathered, expanding from her palms, and dripped from the tips of her fingers.

A hum keened low in her throat until sounds of her song rose, the sound deep and sweet as it vibrated inside her chest; lilac-colored ribbons of smoke appeared in a whirling, churning motion that surrounded the area that they stood in. The scent of amber and tobacco was thick in the air, permeating the surrounding area in a storm that brought the elements to a frenzy. The wind aided her and carried the plume of her magic higher into the air before it gathered, creating a dark cumulonimbus cloud that swelled to a giant peak. When the peak reached a height that cast a dark shadow over the entirety of Alene’s property, her song faded, and her eyes opened with glowing hues in the same shade as her magic that flickered to Sans’s wide eye lights.

“Remember what I told you,” she spoke, her voice rich with power that carried a strength that matched.

Her tone was amicable despite the impressive display of magic, but the underlining urgency was not hard for Sans to detect. He hesitated for a brief moment—even he had to pause at the sheer amount of power that surrounded him and although he could feel that it was non-hostile, he was aware that his capacity to last against such an overwhelming amount of magic would cause him to break out into an early sweat. Whatever misgivings he had about Alene (and more specifically the witches) seemed to be set aside as he stood in the eye of the magical storm created by the older woman. Such intent was unmistakable even to him, though anyone looking at them would believe such a phenomenon was possible.

Well, today seemed to be full of impossible things.

A decision was made, so Sans closed his eye sockets briefly, pulling the magic dwelling within his soul effortlessly before he opened his eyes.

An indescribably feeling welled inside Alene the moment Sans opened his eyes; staring into the depths of his gaze, she noted with a detached sort of fascination that his power shone through his left eye, while the right remained devoid of light. Rapid flashes of blue and yellow flickered within the depths of his left socket and only seemed to glow brighter the more his power grew. Alene half expected the magic to spill out from his socket, but he seemed to hold a tight control over the magic. Whether that was a testament to his age, experience, or an inane ability he held, she found no answer. But she was impressed—and that earned a smile from her.

The scent of snow and wood-smoke increased and melded with her signature, the clashing scents creating a harmonic chaos that seemed to circle around before finding cohesion. Alene could not see the physical manifestation of his magic, but if his eye and the slight flex of his covered phalanges were to indicate anything, it was that Sans was reaching the peak of his own reserves of magic.

The crackle in the air broke their eye contact as Alene noted snakes of lightning weaving through the storm of her magic. Taking that as a sign that her spell was ready, she looked back at Sans and smiled.

“When I say the word, let out your magic,” she uttered.

The cloud shifted and stretched across the sky, leaving the night in a shadow of tinted lilac and cyan; the meld of both magics was like stirring paint slowly, until eventually, it changed into one cohesive color, covering the stars, and blocking the moon’s light. Sans wanted to see what the magic was doing, but he feared that if he looked, he would lose all of his concentration. He still had enough magic to hold the spell, but at some point, he would need to stop, or he would end up exhausted. While a nap was always welcome for him, he had a feeling Alene wouldn’t appreciate him falling asleep in the middle of an important spell.

When he was starting to perspire dots of blue sweat, Alene finally said “Now”—and Sans let go.

He expected the cloud of magic to rain gently down like the namesake, but he was alarmed to see that it rushed down like a tsunami. Before he could blink, it slammed down all over the surrounding area—the house, the garden, even the edges of the forest, which he suspected was where the wards were planted, and further to the front of the house. He could see the culmination of intent shimmer, saturating every surface it touched, until after a while he began to see it recede and the light of the moon and stars returned to the sky.

The night returned to its quiet cadence and Sans let out a slow breath he hadn’t realized he kept. He flicked his eyelights back to Alene, who looked on patiently.

“Thank you, Sans,” she spoke, and he could hear her sincerity. “I imagin’ not many monsters would be willing to easily trust a human who can wield magic—even if we’re not mages.” The dry tone led Sans to believe that she had to keep that distinction firmly in place. He couldn’t blame her. It must have been a pain having to constantly remind people that they weren’t an enemy—though he had to wonder, just _who_ did she have to consistently defend herself against?

“no problem,” he commented instead, his tone light and lazy as his smile. “can’t say i was expectin’ this, but i think i managed to _weather_ it out.”

That brought a laugh out of Alene. “Indeed.” She teased back. Rolling her shoulders, she eased the tension that gathered at the base of her neck, turning it left, then right until a satisfying crack sounded. If there was discomfort on the skeleton’s face, Alene didn’t acknowledge it. It was necessary for her to stretch and release the pressure that built up in her joints, more so because of her age than because of the amount of power she had to apply. Using magic of that caliber always put a strain on the body, but it was same as exercising—only instead of it being a physical activity, it had more to do with the soul, and the aftereffect of the spell were much like finishing up a workout.

“Well, now that the skies are clear,” Alene said cheerily. “Let’s see if I can lay to rest any doubts you have for me. Oh don’t look so shocked,” she admonished at his expression, suppressing her urge to tease the skeleton further. “It’s only fair that you ask me a question, ain’t it?”

Alene merely waited at his hesitancy. Whether that was due to choosing what sort of question he wanted to ask or not, she had no guess. It was also possible that Sans had overexerted himself of his magic, but Alene did not know him well enough to determine if that was the case. Up until now, he was quite expressive for a skeleton—though now he seemed closed off and careful to keep his expression neutral. For a moment, Alene thought that he wouldn’t take up her offer. She imagined there were a number of questions he had, though she couldn’t guess as to what he would ask her.

Then he spoke. “alright. i think i know what i want to ask, but it’s better if i do it in an encounter. s’that alright with you?”

Alene straightened her spine, her attention grabbed by the mention of an encounter. Outside of what her ancestors recorded that described this phenomenon, Alene knew little else about what an encounter entailed. She knew that her granddaughter had experienced the act with the monsters she met when calibrating the wards, but outside of that, she had no clue as to what to expect. If there was any danger to be had, the witch would face it.

Cautiously, Alene gave her consent. “That’s fine,” she said. “Whatever you need to do—but make it quick,” Thinking about you, she added bemusedly. “I’d hate to worry Eve more than necessary.”

“don’t worry,” Sans said, his left eye flaring to life with magic. “this shouldn’t take long.”

* * *

The moment you stepped off of the porch was when you felt a change of energy in the air and froze. A number of thoughts gathered and swirled inside you—all of them in shades of ‘Goddamn it’ and ‘Not this shit again’. Your thoughts were colorful like that—but given the day you’ve had you shouldn’t have expected anything less. That you could tell your grandmother was up to her usual mischief, sans (heh.) the usual mysterious bullshit you put up with, was not without its worry.

You marveled at the sight of the building tornado of lilac smokey magic in the distance and found yourself hesitating to head towards it. That was understandable—any normal, sane human being would do the same thing. You never claimed you were sane, but you liked to think that you were smart enough to consider heading towards the area that screamed ‘danger’ to anyone that perceived the storm with only their eyes.

Somehow, the storm that appeared unexpectedly outside wasn’t the most alarming thing you had seen today, but you were no less worried. The taste of Nana’s magic was as familiar to you as her scent, and while both inspired comfort, the situation itself did not offer you any assurance. You suppose that if the day was going to end in any sort of fashion, having your grandmother flex her magical prowess was the epitome of a grand finale.

You took some comfort though—from the cloud that bellowed and covered the expanse of the sky, it didn’t carry any aggressive energy, so she wasn’t angry. Still, you assuaged your approach and relaxed, keeping your pace mild as you made your way back across the backyard towards the garden tunnel. No doubt your grandmother was casting an enchantment that assured the concerns that the skeleton held. You couldn’t say you knew the specifics of the spell, but the intent was easy for you to pick up on—which was more surprising when you felt a second signature join her spell.

If you hadn’t known that Sans had accompanied your grandmother, you would have worried (you seemed to be doing that a lot lately, huh?) about the joining magic that melded with your grandmother’s. The new addition was…not unpleasant. It was certainly _different_ , that was for sure. You couldn’t quite place your feelings on the new scent, but the taste made you believe that you stood in the middle of a snowy forest. Pine, wood smoke, and a tinge of peppermint—they were subtle, much like Sans himself you realized. You breathed in deep, drawing the magic inside your lungs and allowing the magic in the air to flood your senses.

Between one breath and the next, you decided that Sans’s magic was alright, for now. While you didn’t have any experience with how monster magic worked exactly, you least knew that it followed the same rules that the witches (and you suppose mages) adhered to.

_I mean, worst-case scenario they can bend the laws of physics and then we’d be screwed._

That wasn’t a charitable thought, but it set a standard of what you could tolerate in regards to a scale of power you could conceive. Your grandmother was at the top for a reason, but there were always contenders waiting to stake their claim for the prize of number one magical badass. _You_ certainly had no aspirations for it, but it was a good idea to know the hierarchy and who was placed where. In your opinion, whoever was at the highest was the one you took a second glance at. The rest were a mild concern—enough that you could easily dismiss, but you wouldn’t leave your back unguarded.

Now you just had to wonder what scale Sans fell under.

The answer came pretty fast as an of unexpected _zing_ of electricity charged the air, leaving a fizzling sensation that danced across your skin. Your tongue felt numb in your mouth and your vision was hazy at the edges before you shook yourself out of the spell. _Well then_. Sans was _definitely_ top tier, that was for certain. You couldn’t safely assess whether he was more powerful than Asgore or if he was equal, but there was no doubt in your mind that Sans was definitely _not_ low in the magical hierarchy. It made him no less dangerous, but you could safely assume that your grandmother could take him down if a fight came to a head.

You hoped that it would never come to that though.

As a general rule, witches didn’t condone fighting and you followed that rule when it was applicable. It may have had to do with the war, or maybe it was just a matter of trying to preserve our…not species per se, but our kin? Whatever—the point was fighting were actively discouraged. It didn’t mean that fights never happened, but most were careful enough not to let the Coven know of it. Violence, in general, was something you liked to avoid if you can help it and despite how quick your temper—and your mouth—ran off with you, you didn’t enjoy enacting violence or cause unnecessary pain. It didn’t mean that you wouldn’t step in to defend yourself or those you cared for, but you preferred to deescalate a situation without resorting to physical or magical means. If there was no other choice however, you would step in to stop any aggression before it came to a head.

You had come to learn, very early in your years of training to be a witch, that avoiding a fight could only do so much—and sometimes it meant you had to beat down your oppressors before they could beat you. You had quickly learned that to allow anyone to walk all over you was to give power over you—and you had had enough of _that_ from your family to last you a lifetime as it was. Nana had taught you the basics, but you had to be clever enough to use what you were taught to help yourself. You would come out of it no worse for wear, but at least Nana was there to dress your wounds and give you the pointers needed to strike back at your rivals.

(They learned _very_ quickly not to mess with you afterwards. It was a victory you took pride in, even if it invited more trouble your way.)

You were halfway down the tunnel when the magic suddenly stopped. The pause was miniscule, leaving you to wonder if the spell had been interrupted—until you realized you were wrong. You had no time to wonder exactly what happened before you _felt_ the wave crash down upon the entirety of the garden, covering you in a permutation of magic that was both familiar and unfamiliar. You coughed and buckled under the weight, your hands catching on your knees before you feel slid down to catch yourself on the cool ground.

It was _intense_ —you had never felt magic settle so strongly around you, nor had you ever been incapacitated by this before. The presence alone had felled you like you had been tazed, but the taste and scent nearly overwhelmed your senses. It was a first for you, though you weren’t ashamed to admit that you couldn’t stand up to this power by your own strength. If there was ever a moment for you to feel humbled, experiencing your grandmother and Sans’s combined magic wash over you certainly impressed you.

It was all you could manage to stay conscious and breathe. You counted each inhale and exhale, timing it with every other beat of your heart while you waited for the magic to settle into the earth. There were several things you could gauge from the spell: the first was that your Nana packed a lot of power into the spell. That worried you, but the intent behind it was decipherable: she was changing the design of her wards. That would have miffed you given you had spent such a long time igniting them, except you understood why she did it—which brought your attention to the second thing you noticed about this spell.

Sans’s intent was threaded within the wards, which meant a few things: Nana granted him permission to pass through unharmed, and she trusted him to use his magic to slip through her wards and enter anywhere on her property and the cottage. You couldn’t get a read on his intent fast enough to discern anything legible, but of what you could pick up was enough to assure you that he wouldn’t cause harm. That was all that mattered to you. If there was more to it, it had faded away. Nevertheless, once the last of the magic waned away, you climbed up to stand and began walking towards the gate.

You saw them in the distance and smiled. Beneath the moon’s light, you could see that they were conversing, and it was likely they didn’t notice that you were approaching. It explained why you felt the sky begin to darken. You frowned and looked up to the sky, but the moon hung full and as beautiful as ever. Curious you lengthened your stride until you were at a distance that you called out to them.

“Nana? Sans? What’s going on—”

You recognized the _ping_ sound and for the second time today you felt your vision return to the familiar black and white state you recognized as an encounter. Only this time, you were not the one on the receiving end of the encounter—your grandmother was. Automatically you looked down to see if the familiar little heart appeared in front of your sternum, the seat where your soul resided, and you were relieved (and maybe a little disappointed) to find that it was absent. You weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not. You tried to approach them, but you found yourself frozen in place.

At first you thought it was because you were stuck, but you looked down at your feet and found nothing anchoring you—which meant that magic rendered you immobile. Panicked, you looked frantically between Sans and your grandmother and tried to call out to them.

No sound came out of your mouth then, and you realized that you were rendered as a helpless bystander.

And oh you did _not_ like that, not one bit.

You only had a brief experience with an encounter when you had met Froggit and Whimsun, but obviously you didn’t know what an encounter was like for a spectator. After a time, you realized as you watched them that there was no violence being enacted, so took a breath. Or five. It was a little hard to remember to breath while looking at a possibly dangerous situation, and your terror was difficult to wrangle in. But you managed to tame the staccato of your heartbeat down to its normal cadence.

 _Okay,_ you thought with a vigor you didn’t feel. _So far, nothing’s happening, so no point in panicking just yet._

Sometimes being practical helped center you. It was a neat and useful trick – especially when it concerned the preternatural. In your bid to calm down, you decided to use your practicality to focus on what you could do: so you stood and watched.

Time seemed to go at a different pace for you while you watched Nana and Sans; the surrounding area of trees and open grassland appeared frozen in place—as if time itself had stopped. And wasn’t that just a curious thing? You were able to move within a certain perimeter of the encounter, but you couldn’t interrupt. You were close enough to see them that perhaps to the casual observer, they appeared to stand and stare at each other, though you knew from previous experience that there was a lot more going on than what they eye could see. You could just barely see the faint heads-up display on either side of them though you couldn’t see what their selections were.

For a long while you watched them, though they didn’t seem to engage in physical conversation like you had. You tried to recall if the length of your encounter was measured in the same way through normal means, but it was difficult to remember. Frustration overshadowed your unease and you allowed it— better that than letting fear take hold you.

You focused on Sans’s form and tried to read his body language, though you couldn’t get a good read on his mood. You weren’t sure if it was a monster thing or if he was just really good at hiding how he felt, but his stance gave nothing away to you. He seemed just as relaxed as he had been when you first met him, which lead you to believe that this encounter was a friendly courtesy, or he wasn’t planning on fighting your Nana. That would have reassured you, except your instincts told you that this was more than just a friendly encounter—and you always listened to your instincts.

You didn’t like that you didn’t know what was going on, or like the fact that you were excluded from the conversation. You hadn’t forgotten the look on Sans face when Nana had cast her spell—and apparently neither did Nana, if she had readily agreed to this encounter was anything to go by. As unhappy as you were about this though, you trusted your grandmother would come out of this without any issue.

The bright side to all of this (if you could seriously call it that) is that you took the opportunity to observe how an encounter looked from the sidelines. It was all that you _could_ do at the moment until Nana or Sans ended the encounter. At least this way, you had a unique perspective of how this mechanic worked and could find out how it would help you in the future.

Your grandmother had taught you to look for chances to learn, even if the conditions weren’t ideal or favorable. And you knew that her advice was sound, even if the situation unsettled you. Stubborn, you may be, but you weren’t stupid—and you listened whenever your grandmother gave you advice, especially when it concerned matters involving witchcraft.

Right now you watched them face each other with keen eyes that took in everything. Nothing would have escaped your notice, so you were able to see a few things about this encounter that made you pause.

Nana’s soul rested exactly where you expected in front of her sternum, you noted with slight fascination, though you didn’t expect its position to change. You noted that the color matched her magic, a soft glowing lilac that shined iridescently as it bobbed in an idle sort of animation you had come to expect as a sort of ‘standby’ mode. Though the movement was distracting, you saw something beneath the glow. It was hard to see, but there was another layer that seemed to shift between two distinct colors, though it blended together so seamlessly that you couldn’t tell exactly what they were.

You couldn’t recall if your soul held the same phenomenon, but to be fair, you had a lot going on that didn’t allow you the proper amount of time to study your own soul. You suddenly wished you had your phone to record what was going on. Maybe when this was over, you Nana or Sans about it—if they would tell you. Nana you knew could be a little obstinate and turn this into a ‘learning experience’, but maybe Sans would be more forthcoming.

Deciding that nothing else was going to happen while looking at your grandmother, you shifted your eyesight back to Sans. You expected to find the same floating heart presented before his bare sternum, but you were surprised to find that nothing appeared. Then you remembered that your encounter with Froggit and Whimsun yielded the same results—which lead you to believe that having the soul out was something that happened only to humans and not monsters.

You were beginning to wonder _why_ exactly it was designed this way specifically when your train of thought stopped. Something changed.

And that’s when you started to get nervous.

One by one, apparition’s began to appear from thin air, until a total of four appeared behind Sans; there were two beast heads that were suspended behind both his shoulders that were sizably bigger than him—and they didn’t look friendly. They were analogous of the skulls you had seen in museums, of ancient beasts from a prehistoric age; it was hard to tell exactly what kind of animal they reminded you of upon closer inspection, but the longer you stared at them the more your mind drew to the conclusion that it was like the canis lupus. The sharp teeth certainly helped supply you with that conclusion, but you weren’t too concerned with the species of these beasts—you were more concerned with the fact that they were staring intently at your grandmother.

The sheer size of these beasts alone made sweat break out on your skin, while your throat felt barren as your nerves ran wild with your worry. You attempted to swallow to trigger the development of saliva as frantic eyes landed on Nana, who looked calm despite the imminent danger she was in.

That didn’t reassure you, especially when you heard a keening noise that jerked your attention back to the beasts. The panic you had thought was tamped down flared to life as their jaws opened wide, displaying very large, sharp, and lethal looking teeth—but while that _was_ a danger in of itself, you were more concerned with the sudden display of energy that accumulated from their maw. You couldn’t hear anything else past the roar that split through the air as the energy amassed by these beasts was suddenly released, the beams firing without warning were aimed at Nana, whose expression appeared grim but otherwise unphased.

The force from the blasts shook the earth beneath your feet as it hit its target and you screamed out when the beams obscured your grandmother’s form. This time you fought to run towards your grandmother, heedless to the beasts or Sans—all you knew was the mindless need to _get to her, please god in heaven please be okay—_ and you pumped your legs as they cut across the veil of smoke and dirt until you stood at the spot of scorched earth—the very same spot where your grandmother had stood. You weren’t aware that your surroundings returned to their normal color, but that was miniscule information right now.

You couldn’t find her.

_You couldn’t find Nana._

_**NO!!!** _

You whipped your body to face the skeleton, tears and magic gathering in a blaze that matched your state of being. You were _furious,_ and it made your magic react volatile to your emotions. You thought you saw heard him speak, but the words didn’t break through the frenzy of your thoughts. The buzzing, angry torrent of thought only increased as you kept thinking she’s not there. She’s not there.

She’s not there she’s not there _she’s not there she’s not there she’s not there she’s not there **she’s not there** **she’s not there she’s not there SHE’S NOT THERE!!!**_

“—lm down, Eve!”

“Calm down?” You said softly. Dangerously soft—the kind of tone that was used before violence followed suit. “I just watched you command your beasts to blast a _laser beam_ at my _grandmother_ and you’re _ **telling**_ me to _ **CALM DOWN?**_ ”

His expression was pleading and maybe a little panicked. “Eve, it’s not what it looks like—”

Oh wasn’t _that_ the just funny? Wasn’t _that_ just **so** **fucking** funny! You would have laughed if it was possible for you to keep your sanity at the moment—but you didn’t care.

You screamed at him—you threw your words at him, uncaring of where they landed and how it hurt because _you_ hurt— _you_ were in _pain_ _and it was all his fault!_

“Exactly **WHAT** was this supposed to look like _Sans_?!” you spat out venomously. “No really— _explain_ to me how this was supposed to be—I’m just _**dying**_ to hear your excuse!”

Sans merely looked at you.

“ _ **Answer me!!!**_ ” You screamed.

His silence was your reply—and you were incensed. Sans stood quietly opposite to where your grandmother once stood ( _and you didn’t want to think about the possibility that she was gone, you **couldn’t** , you could only react and **pray** she was alive, because to think otherwise would have broken you) –_who offered no explanation or apology to your frustrated cries. He merely stood and watched you and left you speechless with rage.

Fine.

_If that’s how he’s gonna play, then so be it—_

_Let’s play._

Hushed sounds left your lips carefully so that they did not move and draw attention to the spell you prepared. You could taste and smell the change in your magic: the flavor was sharper and distinctly overpowering that you fought to keep from coughing. Rage changed your magic and honed it into something volatile—and that was just fine with you. You were aching to set your magic on Sans and _make_ him talk.

You would make him _**pay**_.

You saw his eye lights narrow, as if sensing your intent and this time, you saw him command his beasts with a flick of his wrist. Your lips peeled back in a soundless snarl as you met the hungry white eyes of the beasts as they opened their maw to attack again. In the back of your mind, you wondered how you had any chance of surviving his attack any better than Nana did. The thought was dismissed easily, and you focused on the battle before you—and ignoring the obviously slim chance you had of surviving his attack.

You were about to fire your magic at the same time as the beasts blasters were about to unleash their attack when something yanked and pulled you down to the ground. You yelped as you landed on your bottom, the charred earth cool but no less uncomfortable to you and you let out a hiss—your tailbone did not appreciate the suddenness of your fall. Before you could snarl out a curse, a shadowed figure stood before the beasts aiming to blast you to dust.

“Now, that’s enough of that.”

Nana’s calm tone broke your grief, rage, and fear and washed you in a warm state of relief. The call of death you had evoked without a thought, the magic leaving as quickly as the relief came, chasing back the chill almost as fast as the sick crawling feeling left you. You shivered reflexively and fixed your eyes upon your grandmother’s form. She looked winded, though no worse for wear than you were, but there was a tense set to her shoulders. When the dust settled down and moonlight revealed itself, you slowly stood up and carefully stood close to the older woman.

“You sure don’t hold back do ya Sans,” Nana drawled out, taking hold of your hand to giving it a gentle squeeze. You were sure it was supposed to be comforting, but you were still fighting the aftereffects of the adrenaline that flooded your system, so you couldn’t properly appreciate her attempt to assure you. You couldn’t be calm—you were too angry, too _scared_ to do anything more but lean against your grandmother.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were tryin’ t’ kill me.”

“nah,” replied Sans, and you had to swallow the scream of rage that built in your throat. He was acting just a little too casual for your tastes and it was _really_ starting to piss you off. “that was more like a love tap really.”

 _A love tap_ , was your half-hysterical thought as you fixed your eyes on him and shot him your deadliest glare you could muster. You couldn’t see the beasts that had attacked Nana or you—which didn’t assure you that you were safe. You narrowed your eyes at him, and Sans, the _**bastard**_ , had the audacity to _widen his smile_ at you.

_I’ll show you ‘love tap’ you son of a—_

“Remind me then not to fight you when you’re serious then,” remarked Nana, who to your utter shock sounded amused. You couldn’t understand that—did she miss the part where the fucking beasts shot _a laser beam_ at her?!—but before you could say anything, she turned to you with a frown.

“And just what the _hell_ were you thinking—” She listed your full name with a disapproving tone that would have cowed you to meek compliance. But you had justifiable cause—and you were still riding the high of your fear-driven adrenaline, so you didn’t feel too bad about snapping back at her.

“You’re mad at _me?!_ ” You exclaimed. “ _Me_ —when _**he**_ —” you thrust your finger at Sans angrily. “—shot you with _laser beams_?!”

“gaster blasters.” Sans supplied, in what you could only assume was a helpful tone. “not exactly subtle for a strong attack, but that’s kinda the point, y’know?”

_Oh I’m gonna kill him._

Apparently, that thought translated clearly on your face, because Nana _laughed_ before she began telling you seriously. “It’s alright Sunshine. I asked him to—”

“I don’t care!” This time you didn’t stop yourself from yelling at Nana. “Damn his ‘gaster blaster’ and damn him—he _attacked you_ Nana! You gave him food and shelter and he fucking _**attacks**_ you—why?! And why did you _let him_?!” You rounded on Sans with undisguised rage on your face. “And _you_ —what the _fuck_ is your problem!? Do you make a habit of attacking your hosts or are you just the sort of monster that would hold a grudge against your protectors?!”

“ _Eve_ —” Nana’s sharp tone held a warning that you chose to ignore. You _weren’t_ going to back down—not on this, not when a power that frightened you almost obliterate your grandmother.

You could have been standing in the remains of her ashes.

( _You were_ that _close to being alone_.)

And the fact that she was so _close_ to being killed left you cold.

“What the hell gives you the right to attack Nana when she promised that you’d be safe from harm? Promises may means something different to monsters, but to us, we _keep_ our promises! No matter how much of a jerk you are, we’d _never— **never** —_” The creeping fingers of a panic attack stole your breath, forcing you to close your eyes to the sting of tears that fought to leave your eyes while you crumpled to your knees.

The inconvenience of it all made you furious, but you couldn’t fight the illogical reaction of your mind -while struggling to breathe. Leaving yourself open and weak wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened, but you had Nana to guard you, so you had an easier time attempting to calm yourself down. The sudden touched of a cool hand to your forehead helped ground you a little, enough that you could safely open your eyes.

“Sans,” you heard your Nana say in a low tone, who crouched beside you and swept the hair from your sticky forehead. “I thank you for not hurting my granddaughter. I ask that you forgive her—and that you we do not speak about this incident again. It would be a great favor to me if you did so.”

You were cut off from saying something scathing—the squeeze to your upper arm was effective in keeping you silent—so you were able to hear Sans reply, “hey, don’t mention it. besides, there’s nothin’ to forgive.”

You thought several things in that moment. The first was something rude that you were sure would earn you a smack on the back of the head by your grandmother if you voiced it aloud, so you said nothing. (You wanted to say it though. It was almost worth the smack, but you liked to think you were a mature adult—so Sans was spared. _For now_.) But the second thought you had was a vow, one that you kept close to your heart: if you ever had a moment alone between you and this monster, you would get answers for what he did—or you would beat it out of him by force.

“Let’s head back to the house, shall we?” Nana changed her grip on your arm to lift you to your feet. You let her tuck you to her side—probably to keep from swiping at Sans. Smart—that’s your Nana. She knew you were still angry, knew that you would seek retribution for what had happened, even if you didn’t know the context of what happened. You were beyond caring at this point and were feeling pretty fragile at the moment, so you allowed her to haul you gently back towards the house.

Sans fell into step with your grandmother who followed along silently, his hands delved deep in his pockets while he strolled casually beside you both. He didn’t say another word until they climbed the steps to the porch, and it was said in a quiet manner.

“i’ll let everyone know Asgore is safe underground,” he said. “if you two need a moment…”

“Thank you, Sans,” Nana answered. You missed the silent communication that passed between them, but you suspected it had much to do with what had transpired only a few moments ago. “I believe they’re in the living room watching a movie, right Sunshine?”

“Yes.”

“Make yourself at home,” Nana continued, ignoring your curt reply. “We’ll joining you later. You go on and have fun.”

“thanks Alene.”

Once he disappeared inside, the two of you entered the other door leading to the sunroom. The wards that were etched along the frame of the door were exactly as you left it and didn’t stir, but you could hear a faint hum—as if it welcomed you both home. Any other day, you would have marveled at the magic of the act but given the fact that you were holding your anger by the skin of your teeth, you only had a passing appreciation for the welcome that your home gave you.

Nana lead you to the chaise lounge and settled you down atop the cushions before she turned and left. You immediately slumped over and laid against the arm of the couch, throwing your arm over your eyes. Maybe it was to keep the sting of your tears at bay, or maybe you were just exhausted. Today was that sort of day. You had many days where you felt tired, but today was a roller coaster ride that you wanted off _yesterday_.

The herbs and warmth of the sunroom still retained the heat from the day and helped relax you. Each breath that you took helped unclench the tension you held in your back and shoulders, and also helped you recount the events that you witnessed moments ago.

What the _hell_ had that fight been about? You thought their encounter was going well—at least in your limited experience, all things considered— though you couldn’t tell if there was any dialogue traded that had changed the atmosphere of the exchange.

You were under no illusions that your grandmother would explain what happened: there was a reason why she and Sans had left to escort Asgore back the underground. But that didn’t stop you from _wanting_ to know why Nana fought Sans. Why did their encounter escalate to that point? Did she offend Sans? Did _he_ offend her? Or was it to establish who was the biggest magical baddie? You had no answers and it frustrated you that you were kept in the dark.

As more and more questions built and looped around inside your head, you lay quiet in the muted light of the sunroom. Moonlight illuminated through the multiple windows surrounding the sunroom, so the space wasn’t exactly dark. But there were plenty of shadows that anything could hide beneath undetected. A gentle light flickered on, fading brighter at the command of your Nana, who had returned with a tray holding two crystal goblets and a decanter.

Mead—blessed, sweet mead. Just what you needed after the long day you had.

The aroma of honey and spice drifted through the air, the gentle scent surrounding the open space of the sunroom and driving you to sit up at attention. You arranged your legs so that they were tucked to the side, so you could lay comfortably against the arm of the chaise lounge. Nana approached the table and set the tray down carefully before taking her seat. She settled in a big armchair that reminded you of a cushy throne and sighed, before wiggling her hand inside the pocket of her pants for her pipe. It was her favorite—a carved wooden long stem smoking pipe that was made to look like a gnarled claw—that you had commissioned as a birthday present.

You watched Nana go through the motions of filling the bowl with tobacco, waiting patiently as she tested and lit the leaves before drawing smoke from the pipe. Sweet tobacco joined the multitude of scents and you felt yourself finally let go of the breath you held. You were well at ease as you took your goblet, the amber liquid shimmering beneath the lights when you looked inside the cup.

“To the gentle end of the harvest season and beginning of long dark of winter,” intoned Nana, who raised her glass at eye level. You mirrored the gesture, eager as much for the mead as well as the blessing. “May our home always be blessed with a roaring hearths, warm food and good company—as I have said, let it be so.”

“ _So mote it be_.”

You both spoke the words of power and then drank deeply from your cups. The mead was a welcome relief and helped your parched throat. When your cheeks were warmed from the alcohol, you drew another deep breath and sighed.

“What a day…” Nana murmured quietly.

“Yes,” you agreed. “It has.”

“You did well today, little one. I don’t believe I told you, but I am proud of you.” A puff of smoke blew from her pursed lips. “You did the right thing to bring them here.”

You knew what she was referring to. Swallowing the emotion that squeezed your throat, you took a small sip of mead before you found your voice.

“I mean…I couldn’t just leave them to the wolves, y’know?” You shrugged helplessly-- awkwardly. “Plus, I’m sure the Coven has been waiting a long time for the monsters, right?” _That’s right_ , you thought. _The Coven won’t be able to help but fall over themselves to help them._ Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but you weren’t looking forward to seeing all of the posturing that most of the witches insisted upon. It was just another one of the more useless traditions you never saw any point to, but you were disinclined to disobey.

“Mm…” the thoughtful noise hummed from your grandmother’s throat before smoke fell out in a steady ribbon. “The Coven…” She looked like she was going to say more but stopped and sighed. Smoke pushed past her lips at the motion. You remembered fondly of when you thought of her as a great dragon: old, wise, and powerful—and with a perchance of hording wealth, though that came in the form of knowledge than in physical gold and jewels. “I will contact them tomorrow. It will take time for the members to gather, but you can expect the days to be busy. When they learn of the reason why, they won’t hesitate to try and earn their favor—and they will probably use this as an opportunity to push an agenda.” Sharp eyes caught and held your attention. “Be very careful Eve. Until your training is complete, and you are fully accepted into the Coven, you will be limited in what you can do to help them.”

You had a feeling that was bound to happen. You gave Nana a put-upon expression and answered wryly. “So, no different than usual?”

“This is different than gaining access to restricted information, little one.” There were perks to your grandmother being the High Priestess of the Coven. Money was a huge factor, but it was their collection of knowledge that captured your interests. The Archives were a collection of stories, biography’s and spells that dated a very long time. You weren’t sure how long exactly the texts predated too, but you could guess it was a really really long time.

“The Coven will expect protocol to be followed to the letter,” Nana continued. “and they will force me to follow that protocol or I risk dissent among the council.”

“I know.” You did, and you didn’t blame her for doing what had to be done.

Nana’s expression softened. “Everything will be okay, sunshine. Whatever most of the members of the Coven are, they are united under the same goal as ours. Try not to worry so, mm?”

“Easy for you to say,” you shot back with a quirk of your lips. “But okay. I know they’ll listen to you, so I’m not really worried about that.”

“So it was the encounter then?”

You were wondering if you would have to be the one to break the amiable peace between the two of you—you weren’t sure if you were happy that Nana broke the subject first or not, but you still frowned and took another drink of your goblet after you refilled it. The motion gave you time to formulate your argument, until you looked at Nana’s patient expression.

“Why?” You asked simply.

Your grandmother sucked more smoke from her pipe and sighed out the smoke. The tobacco smelled sweeter to you—you wished you could smoke, but Nana disapproved of you starting. Hypocrite.

“Because I asked,” She replied in an easy manner that raised your hackles. “and I needed to establish that we were serious about keeping monsters safe.”

“You _let_ him blast you,” you said with growing irritation. “so that he would trust you?”

“Eve,” Now it was her turn to sound exasperated. “I think your anger is misplaced. Do you honestly believe that I did not have control over the encounter?”

“That’s not why I’m mad! I had no _idea_ what was going on when I stumbled upon you two—all I could do was sit and watch!” Remembering how helpless you felt didn’t improve your mood, but you couldn’t help it. “I thought Sans was going to kill you,” You confessed honestly. “He looked like he could do it and he wouldn’t break a sweat.”

“Yep,” Nana agreed. “That one certainly knows his stuff. But the only reason it didn’t escalate any further was because I asked him to show me his power—and you pushed him.”

“Oh, so it’s _my_ fault then, is it?” You asked incredulously.

Nana made a noncommittal noise that sounded as if she was agreeing with you but refused to outrightly say so. You huffed out a frustrated breath and waved a hand in the air, a gesture that shooed your irritation before it ran away with you. “Fine.” You groused. “I’ll accept the fact that I ruined your magical dick measuring contest—” The laugh Nana let out was loud and almost drowned out the rest of your sentence. “—but next time can you at least give me a heads up that you’re gonna do that?”

Maybe you were being a little paranoid, but the fear you felt when the blast crashed upon the ground was real, as well as the thought of losing your grandmother was unbearable to you. A note of how you felt must have bled in your tone, because Nana’s laughter faded from a quiet cadence to an echo of silence. Her hand reached across to settle on top of yours, her thumb sweeping along the skin in a comforting manner that was meant to reassure you. You appreciated the gesture even more when she smiled and said in her easy manner, “No promises sunshine, but I’ll certainly try.”

You laughed softly. “That’s all I ask.”

“Turnin’ my words against me, are you?” She teased.

You snorted—which you knew was un-ladylike, but you and your grandmother were famed for being a pot and kettle duo. “Would you rather I ask for something unreasonable? I just don’t want to worry about things unnecessarily if I can help it is all Nana.”

“I know, little one.” She gave your hand a gentle squeeze and let go. You swallowed the rest of the contents in your cup—the sweet burn of the mead was making your head feel pleasantly stuffed, which told you that you were well on your way to becoming drunk. Woops.

“I think I’m gonna go to bed.” You told Nana, your voice on the cusp of slurring, but it was getting there. You set your cup on the tray and stood up—carefully. Your equilibrium while sober was spotty (you were clumsy, but you weren’t going to admit that out loud) at best, but when you were inebriated, you had to take extra care with your movements. You’ve gained too many bruises as it was when you bumped against the table or countertop in the kitchen and you would rather not add another to your collection.

“Alright sunshine,” Nana settled against the couch and took another drag of her pipe. “Don’t stay up too late—remember that we still have guests.”

You saluted. “Yes ma’am.”

“Also,” she called out as you approached the french doors leading back into the interior of the house. “Frisk has requested that you attend the meeting.”

You blinked, your mind a little slow to remember what she was talking about—but then your memory of the discussion during dinner and your eyes widened. “Is that allowed?”

Nana shrugged her shoulders, but there was a sly look in her eyes. “The Coven wouldn’t dare refuse their request—and the guesting laws are something that they take seriously, as long as everyone obeys them.” She let her look linger on you meaningfully. “Have a care, Eve.”

There was something that she wasn’t saying that you caught—and you understood despite your inebriated state that took her warning to heart. You nodded and answered her solemnly before leaving the room behind you. “I will Nana. I love you.”

“As do I, little one.”

* * *

The call to bed was impossible for you to ignore even if you had been sober. As much as you would have liked to join the others to finish the movie, you had reached maximum capacity for social niceties and you were still too emotional raw from dealing with the aftermath of the encounter to be civil while in Sans presence. You managed to wish everyone a good night while simultaneously ignoring the very skeleton in question—and if anyone noticed the cool disposition you held for him, no one made a comment to you.

You climbed back up the stairs with a careful effort as your energy began to deplete the closer you approached your room. As if your body sensed it was ready to retire into the realm of dreams, your eyes felt heavy with exhaustion. The moment your steps passed over the threshold of the doorway to your room, you felt a measure of relief that drained the last remnants of tension.

Normally you would have held on to wakefulness long enough to prepare your outfit for the morning. But the desire to sleep weighted heavily upon you and you couldn’t resist its call any longer. You shut your door, but left it unlocked—a reminder to yourself that you expected Frisk to knock on your door at some point tonight—before your feet lead you to your bed.

You pulled the heavy comforter aside and slid carefully between the sheets, settling yourself in bed to sleep the rest of the night and leaving today’s anxiety and fears behind you to face tomorrow—when you heard a knock on your door.

_Knock knock._

You stifled a groan. If there was one thing that you hated, it was getting out of bed when you were just starting to get comfortable.

Still, you got out of bed and walked back to your bedroom door.

“Who is it?”

“you’re supposed to say, ‘who’s there?’”

You stiffened. You weren’t sleepy anymore—and you would have been upset by this prospect if it weren’t for the monster that stood on the other side of the door. You had only a few guesses as to what drove Sans to knock on your door, but you were too tired to play any games to find out. It didn’t mean you would be cordial—he had caught you just as you were about to sleep, so it was his fault for catching the tail end of your temper.

Instead of answering him, you jerked the door open and glared at him. There was a measure of satisfaction when you saw him startle at your abrupt action, but he was quick to hide behind his easy-going smile. That was fine—you would let him know _exactly_ how you felt about being disturbed from your slumber.

“Well?” You said coolly. “What do you want?”

To your credit, you didn’t give in to the urge to smack him when all he did was stare at you. That would have been stupid—and you tried not to make stupid decisions when you were tired and tipsy. Instead, you decided to stare into his eyelights, allowing him to see everything you felt: your anger, your frustration, your exhaustion—and your fear. You couldn’t have hidden that from him if you tried, but you were done with appearing composed and in control.

It was a gamble to let him see you at your weakest. He wasn’t an enemy that you feared—but he wasn’t your friend at the moment. And no matter how much the part of you wanted to understand Sans (perhaps even be cordial enough to become acquaintances), you couldn’t allow yourself to forgive him for what he had done. Nana’s explanation settled unhappily with you and you had no doubt that Sans would be less than forthcoming on the nature of their battle. You were doubtful that he would provide you with a satisfactory explanation.

Sans appeared as neutral as ever, with no hint of hostile intent in his posture—which even if he wanted to harm you, your room had wards that you spelled to protect you. You were safe, so you had no fear that he would do anything to you. Not while his companions and your Nana were inside the house to hear you if you raised your voice. That he knocked on your door at—you checked your clock: 10:56pm—left you wary but curious. What could he possibly want to talk to you about?

The staring contest you had with the skeleton monster seemed to drag on for a long time. You couldn’t read him like a human—so you had no window into what his thoughts were, though since you had met him and Papyrus, their skulls were strangely expressive with their ability to shift the structure of their face. It either was a magic thing, or their bones were a lot more lithe then they let on. It frustrated you, but you tempered your impatience: he had a reason to knock on your door and you were willing to at least give him the courtesy of hearing him out.

(As much as you would have rather slam the door in his face and go back to bed, you had better manners than that—and you had a feeling if you had done that, you would have lost an unspoken game you had between you: that doing so would admit to him that he got to you, and you refused to allow that notion.)

“right… about the meeting…”

Apparently, he was finished mulling over whatever was on his mind. You merely crossed your arms over your chest and leaned against the door frame. And waited for him to continue.

Sans pulled out a comb from his pocket (a comb??) and began ‘combing’ his skull nonchalantly—and you could only stare in disbelief. Was he serious right now?

“figured i’d set the record straight since we’ll be working together for a while. Asgore asked that i come to the meeting with your coven, whenever that is.”

 _That_ caught you by surprise. “Excuse me?”

Sans nodded and continued as if you spoke. “yeah—surprised me too, but hey, i’m not inclined to ignore Asgore’s request either.” Sans looked at you and waited.

“He wants you to come to the meeting?” You whispered to yourself. Oh this was bad. You had hoped that after tonight, you would have minimal interaction with Sans until you felt ready to approach him ( _without_ giving into the urge to hit him). Evidently, fate was laughing at you and tempting you to cling to the threads of patience that were growing more and more scarce by the minute. If what Sans told you was true and Asgore requested that he attend the meeting with the Coven, you would need to either bury your antagonistic feelings for him (impossible) or come to a cordial understanding tonight (unlikely).

With an impending sense of dismay, you asked him the question you dreaded hearing the answer to. “Why?”

He must have thought you were asking why Asgore asked him to come to the meeting—which you _were_ curious about. Sans shrugged his shoulders, his smile unchanging in its lackadaisical manner. “couldn’t tell ya. Asgore seems t’ think i’m needed by his side. but i think it’s t’ give us the symbolism of a united front: two humans an’ two monsters, both workin’ together to achieve a peaceful coexistence.”

“Yeah, I’ll just bet,” you couldn’t quite keep the bitterness out of your tone as you spoke, but you weren’t hiding your unhappiness with him either. “So what—you and I are just supposed to shake hands and make nice?”

“that’d be a start,” Sans agreed. Either he was purposefully ignoring your tone, or he was ignorant of your mood. “but before that, i figure i should offer some friendly advice. y’need to forget about that encounter. it’s for your own good.”

You narrowed your eyes and said nothing.

Obviously, he didn’t know that hell would freeze over before that would happen—and if there was one thing you despised more than anything, it was when someone patronized you. You dealt with that _plenty_ of times and you _especially_ wouldn’t put up with Sans doing that to you. So you sought to inform him of that. “Yeah—not gonna happen,” you sneered. “I’m not the type to forgive and forget when someone I love gets hurt, so don’t expect us to become best friends or whatever.”

Sans heaved a heavy sigh—like he held some great burden he was trying to shed off his body but couldn’t seem to shake it off. You imagine that _you_ must have been that metaphorical burden and it cheered you a little to know that you caused him some small measure of an inconvenience. Well that was just fine—you were glad you weren’t the only one that was unhappy with how things were.

“look kid,” Sans started with patience—looks like you weren’t the only one that was aggravated. “i get where you’re comin’ from—believe me, if someone had attacked my bro and had no explanation for why, i wouldn’t be takin’ it sittin’ down either. but you have to believe me when i say that i never intended any harm towards your grandmother.”

“Oh wow,” you gasped, your voice going soft and breathy—the perfect imitation of an airhead. “you mean that you _firing lasers_ at my Nana was all just a big misunderstanding? Wow, I feel _so_ much better.” You fixed him with an unimpressed look. “I’m not an idiot Sans—I _saw_ how you looked when Nana cast her spell over everyone. You didn’t exactly inspire warm and fuzzy feelings.”

“look,” He must be a well of patience, because even despite your defiance, he was determined to reach common ground with you. “until this afternoon, the only humans that we knew that could wield magic were mages. so you can understand why we’d be a little weary of you guys. an’ like it or not, monsters won’t always take the time to talk—they’ll shoot first an’ ask questions later if they think you’ll try to trap them underground again.”

You straightened your spine, drawing yourself to your full height and glared fiercely at the skeleton, whose smile had dimmed into not-quite a frown. You _knew_ that what he said was true, though it didn’t make you happy.

“Alright…I’ll make you a deal.” you said, making an effort to be reasonable. Oh there was no mistaking that you were upset, and you made no effort to disguise it. But you knew the position you were in that if you acted on your impulses it would spell disaster—and you had your grandmother’s warning in mind: _have a care, Eve_.

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as magic exhaled past your lips in a mist of condensation. Your familiar signature of lavender and clove was faint on your tongue, an aftertaste that brought the scents to swirl in the air. Magic emerged like a mirage that you could just barely perceive from the edge of your vision; they lingered briefly before they faded but you could tell Sans saw the display, because he suddenly went still.

“If you freely give me your Truth—” you enunciated ‘truth’ with power that, like your emotions, you didn’t bother with hiding. “—that is no more or less than you can give, I will leave what happened alone. You have my word that I won’t ask any more questions about your encounter with Nana.” Your eyes opened, half-lidded as you watched Sans’s silent form.

For a moment, you felt as if you were locked in a state where time froze, where neither you nor Sans moved or spoke. You felt yourself breathe in the charged air slowly, and you made that effort because you were afraid you were about to set off something precarious. A few hours ago you wouldn’t have thought that someone like Sans was dangerous—but you had seen his power, and you were smart enough not to underestimate this monster, no matter how genial or benign he seemed.

Eventually, he came to a decision, because the corner of his mouth moved up in a sardonic expression that was just shy of being exasperated—you guess you understood why, he was dealing with _you_. Then he shuffled his feet and pulled his left hand out, a resigned sort of look in his eyes that said he was at least willing to trust you enough not to harm him—like you had wanted to from the moment you opened the door. He must have seen the lack of violent intent in your posture if he was willing to go along with your offer.

Without a word you took his hand and held it, keeping your grip firm but not tight enough to the point that you were restraining him. To the casual observer, the two of you looked like you were merely shaking hands. Had they looked closer, they would have noted the tense expressions on either face. As it stood, it was only you and Sans that were present—a small blessing on your part since you didn’t need an audience to witness the spell you would cast.

For Truth to work, you didn’t necessarily need Sans’s consent—thought it was greatly appreciated and made the process much smoother—but at least a gesture of cooperation was needed to initiate the spell’s creation. He had already started the process when he provided his nonverbal consent—an extension of his hand—which established the spell’s connection. But you looked into his eyelights and let your magic bleed into your throat as you spoke.

“ **Sans**.” His naming echoed with power that you could feel, and you felt Truth lead you. “ **Sans the Skeleton, Comic Sans Serif, Eldest Brother to Papyrus, Sans Serif _Gaster_ , _Sans_ _The Judge_** —Truth has Named you and all that you are and demands you answer our questions with no deceptions.” Without stopping to see if he would agree, you let the magic race down your arm and coat Sans in a faint aura that enshrouded his body. It said a lot to you when Sans didn’t break free from your grip—you had no doubts as to who was the strongest here— so you wasted no time in asking your question.

“Sans…why did you attack my grandmother?”

The question hung between them, waiting for his answer with a sentient hunger that was hard to ignore. You could see that Sans struggled, though you couldn’t be sure if it was because of the magic, your question, or your true naming. But Truth was a patient sort of hunter and you waited with the same manner—watchful, silent, and still.

“because she asked me…” Sans winced, and he clarified. “heh…well, that’s partially true at least…but really, it was because of a trade—kind of.”

“A trade?”

“yeah. she wanted to put any doubts i had about witches to rest and she agreed to an encounter so i could Check her. but the fight…” Sans trailed off with a thoughtful look to his visage before he shrugged and continued. “that was mostly my fault.”

“In what way?” You asked, though you didn’t need to push Truth to coerce him to answer. He seemed ready to clarify because he answered immediately after you stated your inquiry.

“when i Checked Alene, i was checking her stats,” he explained. “to see what her EXP and LOVE were, and they were…high. r _eally_ high.”

“Well, _yeah_ ,” you stated bewilderedly. “I would have been surprised if she _wasn’t_ at a high level.” You shook your head lightly and chuckled. “Nana’s been a High Priestess for a long time Sans. She would need to be powerful to hold that position.”

“havin’ a high EXP or LOVE ain’t what you think it means kid.”

You looked at him and noticed that he was frowning—and that made you uneasy.

“Okay…” you said slowly. “What does EXP and LV—” you then pronounced them phonetically as ‘experience points and ‘level’ to clarify what _you_ meant when referencing what this (arguably traditional and well-known) acronym meant. “—mean to you?”

Sans gave you a Look that probably said ‘are you serious?’ to you but you were surprised that he managed to pull it off when he managed to raise his browbone ( _how_ he managed to do that you would have to question later). “well for starters, EXP isn’t ‘ _experience points_ ’.” He grimaced, as if saying the words left a bad taste in his mouth. “to monsters, EXP is an acronym that stands for _**execution points**_. an’ when you have enough EXP, your LOVE increases.”

Somehow you had a feeling that ‘LV’ didn’t mean anything good.

“LOVE, too, is an acronym.” Sans explained, heedless to your growing dread. “it stands for _**level of violence**_. it’s a way of measuring someone’s capacity to hurt—the more you kill, the easier it becomes to distance yourself, an’ the more you distance yourself, the less you will hurt…which makes it easier for you to hurt others.”

Chills raced throughout your body that had nothing to do with your magic or the spell that gripped you. Horror—pure and primal, brought your heartbeat to a thunderous gallop as the weight of Sans explanation settled over you. Your mind was starting to do that awful turning, where your thoughts lead towards a conclusion that you didn’t want to face. But just as Truth commanded obedience from its prey, it demanded your tribute and would not allow you to keep the question you kept trapped behind your teeth unasked.

“Sans…” you whispered. “How high is Nana's LV and EXP?”

“…kid…” Sans looked reluctant—and you could see he was starting to sweat from the strain of resisting to answer your question. “ask me somethin’ else.”

“Sans.” This time you steeled yourself. “Answer my question.”

“high.” He ground out with clenched teeth.

“ _How_ high is ‘high’?” You shot back. You wouldn’t let this go—as much as you dreaded hearing his answer, you _needed_ to know. You were _determined_ to hear his answer.

He must have seen you dig in your metaphorical heels into hearing his answer, because suddenly he yanked his hand out of your grip, cutting off the flow of magic and robbing Truth of its power. You gasped and almost fell forward, the abrupt disconnect draining your power and leaving you temporarily weak. Yet as quickly as you felt your strength leave you, you were saved from collapsing on the ground by a strong grip over your arms. Familiar white gloves kept you steady with minimal effort, one that was completely at odds with the man (skeleton, monster…person?) that carried such easy strength.

You found yourself in a rather…compromising position. Instead of being slumped against him in an awkward fashion, he managed to keep you upright so that you were nearly chest to chest with Sans. It certainly brought you much closer to the skeleton than you would have liked. Close enough that you could detect another scent hidden within his magical signature: a musk that tied close to the pine, wood smoke and peppermint. It was pleasant enough that you caught yourself breathing in deep. This close, you were able to see the true color of his eyelights, which weren’t quite the white color you initially thought of, but more of a silvery-cyan. It was beautiful—and you were much to close to be allowed to appreciate the discovery.

You jerked out of his hold and he didn’t hesitate to let you go. The loss of his hold made you stumble, but you flung out her hands to grip the door frame to keep yourself steady. Meanwhile, Sans appeared just as affected as you felt—if from the way he was sweating and how deeply he breathed were any indication, he seemed to be struggling with the effects of Truth’s hold.

“Is that why you attacked her?” You murmured quietly. “Because she had a high LV?”

“leave it alone, Eve.” Sans growled out—and this time he appeared the aggressor. “you said that you would leave it alone if i gave you my truth, and i did. you told me that promises meant somethin’ to you—or are you gonna go back on your word?”

You squeezed your eyes shut and rested your forehead against the doorframe. Everything inside you wanted to ignore his words. You so desperately wanted to pretend that what you just discovered was a lie. You were disappointed that you weren’t drunk enough to slip into that blissful state of forgetfulness. But you were awake, sober, and imbued with the knowledge that Sans revealed to you and you had to live with it.

Much as you wished otherwise.

So instead you glanced at Sans wearily, taking in his tense form and worried (worried…?) expression without comment before you slowly stood up, taking a deep breath before you gave him a curt nod.

“Thank you for setting the record straight,” You said hollowly. You were too tired to care if you were being rude or not. Exhaustion was creeping fast and you wouldn’t hold on much longer before you collapsed—and this time you didn’t Sans to catch you a second time. “You answered _exactly_ as much truth as you could give me,” You let your tone and expression indicate that you didn’t believe he did exactly that. “So I give you my word I won’t ask about your encounter with Nana.”

You retreated away from the doorframe, putting distance between you and Sans before you did something you would regret. Like break your word—or throttle Sans for breaking your spell.

“If that’s all you wanted,” you intoned in a low voice. “I’m going to sleep. Good night Sans.”

With finality, you pulled the door closed, letting the loud bang echo around the walls of your room. You pivoted and jumped onto your bed, the noise likely to rouse concern from anyone that cared when frankly, you just wanted to smother your face against your pillow and scream your frustration. You debated doing that—seriously, you were _this_ close to losing it.

You had so many questions about what happened and neither Nana nor Sans were willing to tell you. It wouldn’t be so bad if you had at least a little bit of information to draw your own conclusions as to what happened—but you didn’t even have that!

Growling to yourself, you shuffled atop your bed until you managed to get comfortable beneath your covers to settle yourself in for sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _:^) hehe_  
>    
> Welp, Sans is definitely not Eve's favorite person for the foreseeable future. I _did_ say this was a slow burn though, so don't give up on him yet lads. I hope this chapter was well worth the long _long_ wait! As an incentive to myself, I will try to post updates on the progress of each chapter on my tumblr & twitter (though I won't promise anything) lol.


	9. The Morning After.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wake up the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I hope everyone is doing well! I turn 30 this month, and as a gift to myself, I dedicate this chapter to me :3  
> (Spoiler alert: this entire story is for me lol)  
> This chapter is very much Papyrus-centered, which is a big challenge for me for a number of reasons and is part of why this took so long to upload. I've mentioned before on my profile, but I have experience roleplaying online so getting into a character's mindset isn't difficult for me. That being said, I want to do Papyrus's character justice by sticking as close to canon as possible while avoiding fanon stereotypes that I've seen him being assigned, while also giving him my own personal touch.
> 
> As you can imagine, that isn't as easy as it sounds unu
> 
> (On the other hand, this is my story and I am merely writing him in a way that's tailored to my specification and how I see him in certain situations-- so if I want him dressed in an apron to help with cooking, then I think I can indulge myself in that fantasy. As a treat. uwu)
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

Morning came entirely too soon for your liking. You never were a morning person, but you were especially loathed to leave your bed when your Nana came knocking upon your door at—you checked your clock blearily-- _4:45 in the fucking morning_. Nope, you were not happy about that and you made sure to voice your displeasure with a low groan.

“Time to get up little one,” Nana gently called out from behind the door. “Y’got fifteen minutes t’come downstairs to make breakfast.”

 _Not enough time_ , you thought to yourself tiredly. Gods, you were so _tired_. If your grandmother’s voice had not pulled you out of your slumber, your body would have sunk back against the mattress and fallen back to sleep. Instead you sat up slowly, letting the weight of your comforter fall off of your body in a heap of cotton and fabric. _Not nearly enough time…_

“Eve?”

You yawned, a mewl escaping past your lips as you stretched your arms high above your head, your chest lifted and stretching taut until you heard the audible _pop_ of your vertebrae slide into place. “I’m up Nana,” You called back tiredly. “Can you start the coffee maker for me please?”

“Sure thing little one.”

“Thanks.” Before you heard her leave you told her: “Love you Nana.”

“Love you too, sunshine.”

It was a ritual of love you did not deviate from, no matter what ill manner of temper that lay between you two—there would always remind each other that love was what kept them together. _Never go to bed angry if you can help it, but always remind each other that there is love between us._

It was good advice that you followed still to this day even as a young adult.

It still didn’t mean that you were happy about being awake and out of bed, nor did you appreciate the chill that settled against your skin, but that was nothing new to you. The cottage was as old as your grandmother and didn’t have the same amenities as a modern home had, but that didn’t mean it was built strictly for its charm. You heard the AC kick to life with a weary groan you could sympathize with. Shivered lightly at current of cold air that moved within your room, you went to the task of digging for simple clothing to wear: jeans, a camisole that had a built-in bra and a flannel t-shirt were the main component of your outfit, but you gave little thought to your underwear and socks. It was cold enough that you would need to start wearing warmer clothing now that winter was soon to descend upon Ebott.

You took your bundle and left your room, closing the door behind you before walking towards the bathroom. As much as you wished you could enjoy the hot water from your shower, your grandmother was serious about time, so cleaning yourself up was conducted in a spartan fashion. By the time you were dressed and out of the bathroom, you practically ran down the stairs to head towards the kitchen. You breezed through to head towards the laundry room, a decent sized room that acted as the entrance to the garage. You dumped your pajama’s in the washer, then headed back into the kitchen to join your grandmother.

With a low murmur of ‘good morning’, you went directly to your designated coffee station next to the refrigerator. The coffee pot was full and steaming with your brew, joined by a mug and your favorite creamer for you to doctor. Your Nana, bless her, knew your exact morning routine, who you saw leaning against the lone countertop in the center of the kitchen. It was an island butcher block-type of countertop that picked up the most traffic when you and her cooked in the kitchen. It was sturdy enough to handle the mountainous amounts of food that was prepared for cooking and preserving, though currently it was barren of any sort of cooking.

A lone cookbook lay open faced on a recipe that you couldn’t clearly see, but you had a feeling it contained something delicious. It wasn’t a question of what the recipe was, but rather how complicated it would be to cook the ingredients. You thought about what preparations would be needed as you added the appropriate amount of creamer to your coffee, giving the contents a quick stir with your spoon before taking a slow sip. At that moment you appreciated the miracle that caffeine provided for you before you looked at Nana curiously.

“So…” you began. “What’s on the menu?”

She glanced at the cookbook thoughtfully. “Well now, seein’ as we’ve got special guests stayin’ in our humble home, I figure we best go all out.”

You perked up a little, swallowing a bit of coffee before replying. “Do you need me to make a run to the store?”

Nana waved her hand. “That won’t be necessary—besides, they’re your guests. It’s rude to leave them behind without notice.”

You highly doubted that, but you made no effort to argue her point and merely continued to sip your coffee. As long as you didn’t have to talk to Sans, you could deal with everything else the day decided to throw your way. Just thinking about what happened last night made you feel as if a headache were beginning to form. You banished the events of that night from your mind before it could take root and hummed. “We’ll need more eggs then. And sausage, bacon, milk, creamer, butter—”

“Yes yes, I’ve already made a list little one.” Nana stated with impatience. “We have enough to make breakfast for today, but I’ll stop by the store to pick up more. See if you can make some pastries: scones, bread, muffins—”

You smiled—you already knew what kind you would make but you asked just in case. “We have enough blueberries?”

“Yes, I suspect so, unless we already ate them all.” That was unlikely. The bushes growing in your backyard always provided plenty of fruit year-round, so you never wanted for the delicious berries. In fact you could probably bring back a basket full and there would still be plenty for you to pick later on. You calculated how long it would take you to pick enough berries to make enough muffins for breakfast and decided you had enough time. You were efficient and fast when motivated and properly caffeinated.

“I’ll pick some strawberries too while I’m at it,” you told your Nana. “They should be ripe enough for fresh eating or for jam.” You were pretty sure that they were nearing the end stage of their life anyways, so it suited your purposes regardless. You wanted to have strawberries to eat for breakfast and to can later on, so it was a win-win for you.

“Alright little one,” Nana stepped away from the counter and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll leave you to getting things prepped. I expect the rest won’t be up until the sun is peeking over the mountain. If they’re still asleep by then, leave them be. They deserve to rest.”

“I won’t.” you said. As a point of principle you weren’t the type to wake someone up early for breakfast unless there was a good reason. But you understood what your grandmother was implying and agreed with her. The guests sleeping in your home deserved to rest in relative peace and safety; if they wanted to wake up after the appropriate time for breakfast, then that was fine by you.

(It was just as well that you didn’t feel inclined to wake up a certain skeleton monster anyways. You just weren’t ready to face him yet—and honestly, you weren’t sure if you ever would.)

“Good. I’ll be stoppin’ by the shop to put a sign that we’re closed today,” Nana began to walk out of the kitchen, and you trailed behind her to see her out. “I’ll be back with groceries in a few hours, so don’t wait up for me, alright? Don’t worry about the dishes after breakfast,” She added. “I made you get up early, the least I can do is take care of the clean-up.”

“Thanks Nana.” That was a relief—you could handle the cooking and cleaning just fine if it was only yourself and Nana, but with the sudden influx of guests, you knew the clean-up alone was going to be a nightmare to tackle by yourself. You stopped by the front door and leaned against the frame while you watched your grandmother glide down the steps towards her car. Parked next to your sleek muscle car was a weathered and old truck that was just shy of being declared a junker. It wasn’t the prettiest vehicle and wouldn’t earn any bidders in an auction, but your Nana loved the truck. You often teased her for hanging on to this relic from a time when meals were made from leftovers and a penny was coveted as treasure. But the truth was that you loved her truck for nostalgia.

You had spent plenty of time driving into town with Nana when you were a child, sitting beside her while listening to the radio croon old tunes that were just barely heard over the roar of the engine. As your grandmother climbed inside and started the old thing up, you heard that familiar engine sputter and growl before it settled into a purr that you could feel vibrate through your bones. There was still some life left in that old car yet, if only due to your grandmother’s stubbornness and determination in maintaining its upkeep.

Waving goodbye as she headed towards the dirt road, you closed the door and locked it before you turned and made your way back up the stairs. Before you began harvesting your bounty for breakfast, you needed to gather the laundry and get it ready before the other’s woke up. You kept your footsteps soft as you climbed up the stairs and walked back towards your room. You were quick to gather your basket of dirty laundry, making sure to sweep up fallen pieces of cloth off of the floor before bumping the door to your room shut with your hip.

Going back down the stairs was a lot harder to navigate while you had a pile of clothes to carry, but somehow you managed it without tripping over your feet. You wasted no time with sorting the clothes in your basket and throwing them in with your pajamas before adding the soap and starting the washer. You had roughly a half an hour or so to pick your berries before the first load was done, so without pausing, you snatched the fruit basket hanging beside the coat rack nearby before heading towards the door to the backyard.

* * *

The sky transformed from a quiet dawn to a muted sunrise; the sun wasn’t quite there at the peak of Mount Ebott, but you could tell by the change in temperature and the sound of birdsong that the passage of time had approached a period that was considered a ‘normal’ morning. You were in the kitchen washing the blueberries and strawberries in the sink to get rid of the dirt and bugs. You set them in a colander to drain dry, then flicked your wrists of the excess water.

Now was the time for you to decide what exactly you were going to bake. There were several choices, all of them yielding a delicious result you were hard pressed to deny yourself the pleasure of eating. But the problem lie in the time and ingredients you had on hand. Muffins and scones would be the safest and easiest choice, but it couldn’t hurt for you to prep for the next morning. You walked over to the pantry beside the cellar door and opened it to inspect the contents.

“Okay, we’re good on flour, sugar…” You muttered to yourself, keeping your mental checklist to the forefront of your mind while your gaze swept from top to bottom of the pantry shelves. “…running low on shortening, but I can always substitute.” You grabbed what you needed, bumping the door shut with your hip before walking back to the island to set your items upon the countertop. A song came within your mind that you hummed merrily to yourself; alone in your kitchen, you worked to music only you could hear and let that tune carry you throughout your task. Flour and sugar were measured in their respective bowls for east mixing, while the eggs and butter were cut and set aside for later use.

Walking back to the sink, you washed your hands, letting the soap and water clean your hands while your mind wandered. You then turned and snatched the kitchen towel from the oven handle to wipe your hands. The last load of laundry was in the dryer, whirling noisily in the background while you worked. It was an old machine that was suspected was nearing its last leg, but you weren’t ready to call it quits yet. If it couldn’t be repaired when it eventually broke down, you would need to talk to Nana about replacing it.

You were frowned at the thought, returning the towel back to its designated spot and turned around—only to shriek when you found yourself nose to chest with the taller skeleton brother.

“MY APOLOGIES HUMAN-EVE!” Papyrus’s voice was like a gong in a quiet forest—deep and reverberating in that it was hard to ignore, but not unbearable to be in the presence of it. He seemed just as startled as you were, perhaps because you had let a curse slip from your mouth. But to be fair you didn’t expect him to be up or to be standing right behind you. You didn’t even hear him come down the stairs—which made you wonder if he intended to be quiet or if he was naturally light on his feet.

“I DIDN’T MEAN TO STARTLE YOU, BUT I WAS CURIOUS ABOUT WHAT YOU WERE DOING!”

“It’s alright Papyrus,” you said as you took a small step back while you wrangled your heartbeat to keep a steady rhythm. “I didn’t expect anyone else to be up for another hour, so seeing you surprised me. I was just about to grab the berries from the sink to start making muffins,” You nodded to the kitchen sink so that he could look. “They’re going to be part of the breakfast I’m making for you guys.”

“REALLY? THAT’S WONDERFUL!” His seemed excited at the prospect of food, or maybe it was the fact that he was just naturally energetic. He fixed his eyelights on you and declared with a boldness that robbed you of speech. “NORMALLY THE GREAT PAPYRUS WOULD WAKE UP EARLY TO MAKE MY BROTHER BREAKFAST. BUT SEEING AS WE ARE GUESTS IN YOUR HOUSE, IT WOULD BE AN HONOR IF I WERE TO ASSIST YOU!”

“Oh uh—” you brought your hands in front of you and made a motion that warded him away. “I appreciate the offer, but you don’t have to. Besides, you’re a guest—you should be relaxing. It’s still pretty early in the morning,” You glanced out the window to indicate the change in the sky. “Are you sure you don’t want to go back to sleep?”

“OH DON’T WORRY HUMAN-EVE! I SLEPT QUITE WELL LAST NIGHT!” Papyrus replied cheerfully. “NORMALLY I WOULD HAVE GONE OUT ON PATROL, BUT WE’RE NOT IN THE UNDERGROUND ANYMORE, SO THERE’S NOTHING FOR ME TO DO. I WOULD MUCH RATHER DO SOMETHING PRODUCTIVE!”

“You were in the Royal Guard too?” You asked surprised.

He seemed to falter a little at your question, which piqued your curiosity. You knew Undyne was Captain and that Asgore had mentioned that the guard would be reinstated once monsters were settled down on the surface. From what you gathered from him initially, you were under the impression that Papyrus held some sort of rank within the Guard. Looking at Papyrus, you had wondered from the battle armor he wore if he was part of the Royal Guard. He seemed to carry himself just on confidence alone, though you never spent a lot of time around people that belonged to any established law enforcement (the _human kind_ didn’t inspire anything honorable to its name, but you had some hope for the Royal Guard) to know if they belonged to that group.

“W-WELL, NOT EXACTLY.” You were surprised by his admission. “BEFORE FRISK FREED US, I WAS IN TRAINING TO BECOME A GUARDSMAN UNDER UNDYNE’S TUTILAGE! BUT SINCE WE’RE ON THE SURFACE NOW, I HAVE TAKEN ON THE ROLE AS THE MONSTER MASCOT!”

“That’s pretty cool Papyrus!” You said. It was true, you never expected Asgore to appoint anyone as their mascot. “Asgore picked a perfect monster mascot.” You grinned at him and you saw him mirror the expression.

“OH, ASGORE DIDN’T PICK ME AS THE MASCOT,” Papyrus said. “I VOLUNTEERED!”

Ah. Somehow, you had a feeling that that was a gross exaggeration.

“Still,” you continued with a hint of amusement. “I think you would be a perfect monster mascot. Human’s might be a put off at first, but it’s hard to imagine you as a harbinger of death when you’re so sweet.”

“H-HARBINGER OF DEATH?” Papyrus said aghast with clear distress on his face. “WHY WOULD HUMANS THINK I’M A HARBINGER OF DEATH?”

 _Shit._ You cursed yourself for your thoughtless comment and quickly tried to amend your mistake. “Ah sorry, that came out wrong. Lemme try to explain…” You hummed a low sound in your throat while you arranged your thoughts into a cohesive manner. “Okay. So, in some human cultures, skeletons are viewed as symbols of death because when we die, our bodies decay and leave behind our bones. So seeing a walking, talking skeleton—a _monster_ skeleton at that—kinda puts humans off, for obvious reasons. They’ll see you and think that you’re going to harvest their soul.”

Your explanation didn’t seem to help clear the distress from Papyrus’s visage, but the understanding was visible, and he seemed to comprehend your clarification. You probably could have worded that better, but you felt it was better that you be as blunt as possible than to dance around the issue. Because you could see what would happen in a random setting if a human happened upon this sweet skeleton—a classic horror-esque reaction of terror filled shrieks, with the bonus of fainting and shouts for the calvary—oh yes, the image made you grimace, but you knew humans were an easily stupid and panicky bunch. It was better to give Papyrus a fair expectation of their reaction to him than feed him false illusions.

“Humans won’t necessarily be afraid of _you_ , Papyrus,” You said. “They’re afraid of what you symbolize. They’re afraid of death. It’ll take a while for them to get over that fear. But Frisk didn’t get scared of you when they met you, right?”

“OF COURSE NOT! THE GREAT PAPYRUS MAY INSPIRE MANY THINGS, BUT FEAR IS DEFINITELY NOT ONE OF THOSE THINGS!”

You smiled. “Good. I’m sorry to bring down the mood, but you should know what you’re in for when you’re out there meeting other humans.”

“IT’S ALRIGHT HUMAN-EVE! I KNOW THAT I AM AN INTIMIDATING SKELETON OF TREMENDOUS STATURE, AND MANY WOULD BE BLINDED BY MY MAGNIFICENCE! BUT I WON’T HOLD THAT AGAINST THEM! I’M SURE I’LL WIN THEM OVER WITH MY AMAZING PERSONALITY!” The confident air returned with a vigor that made you smile—which was good. You were worried that the information you gave Papyrus would have put a damper on his spirits, but he seemed to be taking things in stride. You decided to make up amends for the blunder you put upon him.

“Hard to be afraid of someone as magnificent as you.” you agreed. “That reminds me—if you have nothing better to do until everyone wakes up, you can help me make breakfast.”

It was as good an amendment as she could offer without apologizing. She wasn’t sorry for stating the truth of how humans feared otherness and the unknown. But she regretted the slight dimness in his smile and so to compromise, she offered him a place in her kitchen. That seemed to do just the trick because the brightness in Papyrus’s expression returned in full force.

“OF COURSE!” Papyrus proclaimed triumphantly. “I, MASTER CHEF PAPYRUS, WOULD BE HONORED TO ASSIST YOU!”

* * *

Five minutes into cooking with Papyrus and you learned that he was _not_ the master chef he proclaimed to be; if judging by the way that when you asked him to mix the wet ingredients together, he complied to your request with the same boisterous enthusiasm as his personality: by being loud and belligerent. You were swift to putting his movements to a stop ( _why_ he felt the need to stir the eggs with enough speed to put an electric mixer to shame was beyond her understanding), though when he looked to you with honest confusion you had to backpedal a bit to explain why his methods weren’t…helpful.

“It’s not a race,” you told him. “Besides, I’d rather not make more of a mess for Nana to come home to if I can help it.”

“BUT HOW ELSE ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO COOK?” Papyrus, bless him, seemed more confused than insulted at your attempt to gentle his approach. “WHEN COOKING, YOU’RE SUPPOSE TO ENVISION THE INGREDIENTS AS YOUR ENEMY!” He pointedly looked at the mess he made and said with way too much gumption to give credit for. “ONLY WHEN YOU’VE THOROUGHLY MIXED EVERYTHING TOGETHER WILL YOU HAVE CONQUERED THE MIXTURE!”

There was a lengthy sort of pause as you looked at the splattered remains of egg and sugar dripping from the mixing bowl. “…I take it this is…common…for monsters to cook so…passionately?”

“WELL NO—BUT UNDYNE TAUGHT ME THE KEY TO COOKING WAS TO TREAT IT LIKE YOU’RE PREPARING FOR BATTLE!”

(At least now you knew who the culprit was for his botched sense of culinary hubris.)

You had a feeling (sometime in the near future) that you would need to have a sit-down with the (former) Captain of the Royal Guard on what is considered a proper cooking technique. One that wasn’t so…violent. But for now, you focused on what damage you could mitigate with gentle persuasion—and maybe a firm instruction.

You gently took the whisk and bowl from him and set it aside on the counter before you turned to face him. “Papyrus, please don’t take this the wrong way—but that’s not how you’re supposed to cook.” You waved your hand behind you to indicate the mess made and continued to explain. “Usually cooking doesn’t make this much of a mess—or creates so much waste in food.” You took a breath—there was a bit of temper in your tone and you schooled yourself to be patient. It wasn’t his fault that he was taught the wrong way to cook—you couldn’t expect him to know better, plus you didn’t know if it was a monster thing or not. “Do you mind if I show you the proper way to cook?”

He appeared to consider your words, his eye sockets opening and shutting in a blinking gesture before he gave you a slow nod. “PLEASE!” He said.

You nodded and began teaching him. You showed him the recipe book and explained each step and the reason behind it. Papyrus took your direction with bemused confusion but didn’t seem to argue with your instruction. You answered his questions with patience and humor—and found yourself enjoying talking with Papyrus. He took to your teaching with the same infectious enthusiasm that had you smiling and laughing.

By the time you finished with your lesson, you had blueberry muffins baking in the oven and turned the mechanical kitchen timer shaped like a bird. “While the muffins are in the oven, we can start making the strawberry jam.” You were excited about this part—nothing beat a fresh strawberry jam, especially when the fruit came from your and Nana’s garden. “We still have to peel potatoes for the hash browns, but I’m waiting on Nana to come back with the rest of our breakfast spread.”

“ARE THERE ANY PASTA DISHES TO MAKE FOR BREAKFAST?” Papyrus asked curiously while flipping through the pages of the cookbook. You walked over by the counter from the oven and looked around his body at the recipe book.

“I don’t know.” You said thoughtfully. “At least none that I know of. But pasta is more of a vehicle that carries sauce and other ingredients to the palate. So it’s not a stretch to say that a dish couldn’t be made.”

“AHA! A CHALLENGE THEN!” Papyrus turned to you and grinned. “UNDER YOUR TUTILAGE, I WILL MAKE THE BEST BREAKFAST PASTA EVER!”

“I’ll be happy to help,” you accepted. “But not right now. Nana’s already got everything planned out and I don’t wanna make her mad if we make something that’s not part of her menu.”

“OH ALRIGHT—MAYBE I CAN MAKE SPAGHETTI FOR LUNCH THEN!”

You thought that he meant to phrase that sentence as a question, but it sounded like he was really determined to try and cook (maybe not exactly for you _specifically_ , but who knows?) spaghetti. “Alright.” You agreed. “As long as I get to help you.”

“THE GREAT PAPYRUS WOULD APPRECIATE YOUR ASSISTANCE HUMAN-EVE!”

You giggled. “Alright alright—grab the strawberries from the sink for me please?”

For this, you directed him to set the strawberries on the island countertop while you dug out a mixing bowl and a heavy-bottomed saucepan. “Go ahead and put a handful of strawberries in this bowl here.” you held out the mixing bowl for him to take. “What we’re gonna do is crush the strawberries in batches.”

“WOULD IT BE BETTER TO PUT ALL OF THE STRAWBERRIES IN THE BOWL AND CRUSH THEM?” Papyrus asked curiously.

“You’d think,” you answered. “But you risk them falling out of the bowl on the floor, and that makes an unnecessary mess for me to clean up.” The last bit was said with a bit of dry humor. “Which is the least fun thing about cooking is the cleanup. But doing this in batches gives us control over how much jam we make—we should have enough to make what the recipe tells us. Plus,” You added with a conspirator smile. “I’ll be making strawberry scones to have for tea later.”

You encouraged Papyrus to read the instructions carefully so that he understood what he was supposed to do. You followed along and leaned in close to him, your hip bumping against his bone form unconsciously. You were too busy going over the text of the cookbook to notice how close your proximity to Papyrus was. If he gave any indication that he was bothered by how close you were, he didn’t voice any discomfort to you. You were sure that if he felt uncomfortable with you, he would have told you—or at least you hoped so. You certainly _hoped_ that you didn’t make him feel that way.

“Does this make sense to you Papyrus?” You asked him. Your awareness of his body finally came to the forefront of your sense and you, embarrassed, discreetly leaned away to give him space. To your relief Papyrus was too focused on the recipe to notice that you withdrew from him. He looked to you and then to the cookbook before a thoughtful hum sounded low in his (nonexistent) throat. “YES, I THINK SO.” And then because he listened to your advice, he asked you in an uncharacteristically bashful voice. “WOULD YOU SHOW ME WHAT TO DO?”

You couldn’t help the fond smile that graced your lips. “Of course Papyrus!” you consented amiably. “Here’s what we’re gonna do first—”

You lead him over to the sink. “I always wash my hands before cooking,” You explained. “It’s a good habit to have and it’s something of a matter of safety—if your hands are dirty, germs and dirt could get in the food your cooking and can make humans sick.”

Papyrus looked properly distressed by the news. “I DIDN’T KNOW THAT!” He said fretfully.

“It’s okay Papyrus—now you know!” You said comfortingly.

He looked down at his gloves and flexed them. You looked at them too and a question that lurked with curious intent lingered in your throat. “Wearing gloves are good protection to have, but for what we’re doing, you may need to take them off I’m afraid.” You gave him an apologetic look. “I would offer you latex gloves, but I don’t have any at the moment—unless you have a spare pair?”

“IT’S ALRIGHT EVE!” Papyrus said. “I CAN USE MY HANDS!”

“Do you always wear gloves Papyrus?” You found yourself asking before you could stop the impulse, as you watched Papyrus tug the apparel covering his hands and wrists. He set them aside on the counter and turned the faucet on, the neck of the spout giving a brief gurgling noise before water poured with relative ease.

“OH YES! I ALWAYS WORE GLOVES, EVER SINCE I WAS A BABY BONES!” Papyrus admitted cheerily, extending his reach to the soap dispenser beside the faucet and dispensed two pumps of liquid soap upon the bones that would have been where the palm resided if he were human (your recollection of own skeletal anatomy wasn’t exactly stellar). “BUT IN THE ROYAL GUARD, YOU NEED TO BE IN FULL UNIFORM AND MY BATTLE ARMOR ISN’T COMPLETE WITHOUT MY GLOVES!”

You observed with quiet curiosity as the soap clung to the bones of his hands without it seeping into the crevasses and grains. His gestures were no different than if a human were washing their own hands, but the distinct lack of skin still threw you into a loop—you just weren’t _used_ to seeing this sort of thing, especially so early in the morning. You knew the novelty would probably fade the longer Papyrus and _his brother_ (at this point you were determined not to say his name—you were sure it would summon him if you did) remained guests in your home.

When the last of the suds were rinsed from his bones, Papyrus quickly twisted the knob of the faucet off and turned around to look at you searchingly. “IS THERE A TOWEL THAT I CAN USE TO DRY MY HANDS WITH?”

“Oh!” You quickly snatched the towel hanging off of the oven handle and thrust it in front of him. “Here—sorry about that, I was…distracted.” You admitted with a blush. As if you wanted to admit that you were too busy staring at his hands to grab him something to dry with! Ugh! _Get it together!_

“IT’S ALRIGHT,” Papyrus said with a small note of timidity while he busied himself with the motion of drying his hands with the towel. “I KNOW MY HANDS ARE NOT…NICE LOOKING. EVEN SOMEONE AS GREAT AS I AM, HAS CERTAIN…FLAWS THAT THEY ARE NOT PROUD OF.” He must have settled on this word with some measure of difficulty—from his expression, it looked pinched and uncomfortable. You frowned a little—you didn’t like how upset Papyrus was, and you had a feeling that you unintentionally made him uncomfortable with your staring.

_Nice. Way to go, Eve, you made him feel bad._

“I wasn’t distracted because of how your hands looked Papyrus--” You quickly amended that statement, so it didn’t come off as a lie. “Well, not in the way that you probably think at least. I was staring because I was fascinated! Like, humans have a skeleton inside their bodies, so it’s a little odd to see one move without nerves and muscles…am I making any sense?” You asked nervously.

Papyrus made a face like he was scrunching his brows (maybe it’s his bone brow?) at you with curiosity. “I KNOW THAT HUMANS HAVE SKELETONS INSIDE THEIR BODIES—FRISK TOLD ME THAT THAT’S HOW IT WORKED FOR HUMANS, AND I HAD FORGOTTEN THAT.” A bemused look crossed his features before he narrowed his gaze at you. “BUT YOU’RE NOT…UNSETTLED?”

“Nope!” You told him, pronouncing the ‘p’ with a pop of your lips. You held your hand up and wiggled your fingers at him, grinning as you did so. “It doesn’t look all that different to me,” you said as you held it out to him for his own inspection. “Though you won’t be able to see the bones, you can feel them—and they’re exactly the same.”

Papyrus looked at your hand with an unreadable expression that you couldn’t gauge. For a skeleton that was as loud and expressive as he was, Papyrus could be quite obstructive when he chose to be. You didn’t dwell too long on that though, instead, you merely waited while he turned your words over in his mind. You weren’t sure how long you both stayed this way, perhaps only for a few seconds or minutes, but suddenly you found that he brought his hand up and pressed it against yours—and for a while, you were silent with awe.

You could recall, back when you were in grade school and your science teacher had model and posters of other relevant science-y things, the one thing that your teacher always kept beside their desk was an anatomical skeleton named Winston who was made the unofficial class mascot—and was adored by your class. All of the kids loved to touch Winston and rearrange his limbs into certain poses, and sometimes would even be dressed in costumes when the mood suited your teacher. The memory from that time was faint to you, but you were reminded of that time now and found that compared to Winston, Papyrus’s bones were far more interesting than the old class mascot.

As the gentle touch of morning peeked over the mountain and cast a shy ray of light through the kitchen window, you felt locked in a pocket of time that stood still, for the sole purpose of this innocuous exploration. Your task had been momentarily abandoned for the simple connection of hands—just you and Papyrus, hand in hand. Unexpectedly, Papyrus’s hand felt warm against your skin. You knew why that didn’t surprise you—you already chalked that up to magic being at work—but you still didn’t anticipate it. That was just how you associated traditional skeletons to be—cold and, well, _dead_. But contrary to that misconception, Papyrus was quite alive and seemed just as enraptured by his own assessment of yourself as you were of him. He was also much bigger than you—his hand almost completely dwarfing your own! His phalanges alone were twice the length of your own and could easily wrap around your whole hand without any effort. There was no disguising the open fascination upon his face, that under normal circumstances might seem rude, but you were sure that this was just as new to him as it was for you.

You found that it was easy to weave your fingers between his phalanges, the space that would normally have muscle and flesh making the gesture odd but endearing to you. “See?” You said quietly, your voice taking on a husky cadence. “Not so different, huh?”

**_BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIING!!!_ **

You both jumped, startled vocalizations of surprise sounding out in a high yelp and short shrieks that was the catalyst to break the moment you had between him. You whirled around, flushed-faced, and muttering expletives to yourself as you went to the stove where the timer sat and slapped it aggressively until it fell to silent stillness. You wasted no time with grabbing a nearby oven mit to fetch the muffins and set the hot pan on the counter to cool—and even then, you still weren’t calm enough to face Papyrus. You busied yourself, taking out the sugar and other such ingredients for the strawberry jam until you ran out of things to gather and were forced to turn back around to face him.

“Well!” You said with forced cheer. “Since you’ve washed your hands, let’s go ahead and start mashing them okay?”

* * *

You nor Papyrus spoke about what happened afterward. As soon as you suggested starting the process of jam making, he seemed eager to throw himself into the task. Relieved that you could distract yourself from that moment, you read from the cookbook and instructing Papyrus on what to do to avoid looking directly at him. You were trying hard not to look into what happened, for reasons that you didn’t want to look too deeply into it. You just wanted to move on, put it away in your mind to revisit another time (or never, never works too), and pretend that it never happened. That was a good plan—a great plan really! In fact, it was one of the better plans you had going for you.

So that’s exactly what you did: you put what happened out of your mind in the ‘review later’ part of your mind and instead observed Papyrus as he crushed the red strawberries into mush. You actually found yourself staring at the way the chunks of fruit clung to his phalanges; it was almost macabre how the bits of pulp and juice coated his bones as if the flesh had been stripped off of him, leaving the meat and blood behind. Of course, the imagery didn’t correlate very well with Papyrus because he was a monster, and while he had human-like anatomy and mannerisms to a certain extent, you never forgot what he was.

It did strike you as odd how your mind went towards something so morbid simply from looking at some crushed fruit, but you chalked that up to a severe lack of caffeine and food. You were really starting to get hungry, and your Nana had yet to return from town yet. You haven’t started making most of the breakfast spread: Bacon! Eggs! Sausage! Pancakes! Hash browns!

Luckily, those were the easiest items to cook. Now all you had to do was go and get them down in the basement.

“I’m going down to the cellar really quick to grab some potatoes, okay Papyrus?”

“OKAY!” Papyrus answered cheerily. “I’M JUST ABOUT DONE. SHOULD I ADD THESE TO THE POT, LIKE WHAT THE RECIPE SAYS?”

“Sure, go ahead,” you said as you opened the door to the cellar adjoining the kitchen entrance. “Make sure to follow the instructions of the recipe _exactly_ , okay? I’ll be right back!”

You ventured down into the cellar, carefully taking one step at a time into the deep dark of the cellar until you stepped off the last step and flicked the light on. You surveyed the cool, dank environment of the cellar and made your way to a section of the room where you knew where all of the root vegetables were stored. Vegetables weren’t the only thing that was stored down here of course—there was plenty of wine and mead, canned and pickled vegetables, and fruits, as well as some cured meat and cheeses. In a normal house, none of these foods would have been able to survive the house's fickle climate, but then again, most houses didn’t have specific charms placed to regulate the temperature of the room’s environment.

That was the handy thing about magic—all it required was some measure of intent and the will to manifest it. Better than relying on an electrical grid at least!

You hurried over to the vegetable pile and picked out a few big potatoes and onions for the hash browns you were going to cook and quickly went back to the stairs and climbed your way up back to the kitchen. You came back in time to the sudden smell of burning sugar and a light haze of smoke.

“Papyrus what happened?!” You cried out, hurrying to deposit your bounty on top of the counter before running over to the stove. “I left you alone for a few minutes, how did you burn the jam?!”

“THE RECIPE SAID TO BOIL IT!” Papyrus replied, looking rightfully distressed and confused. “IT SAID TO DISSOLVE THE SUGAR IN LOW HEAT, BUT THAT WAS TAKING TOO LONG! SO I TURNED THE HEAT UP!”

“Papyrus,” you began exasperatedly. “I told you to follow the recipe _exactly_ —if it says you need to heat the sugar on low heat, then you need to do that! Otherwise, you’ll end up with burnt sugar and a potential fire hazard.”

“THE RECIPE IS TOO COMPLICATED FOR MAKING SOMETHING AS SIMPLE AS JAM!” Papyrus groused petulantly. “FIRST IT TELLS YOU TO START ON A LOW HEAT, THEN A HIGH HEAT! WHY NOT START AT A HIGH HEAT FROM THE BEGINNING TO SAVE TIME? IT MAKES NO SENSE!”

“Well think about it,” You reasoned, taking a page from Nana and holding onto your patience as you reasoned with a clearly frustrated skeleton monster. “If you start out on high heat, the pot gets really hot—which is good and its where we need to be, but obviously there were a few steps that were missed. For example, if you read here—” you showed him a section of the recipe. “It says here that you need to stir the sugar on a low heat until it’s dissolved _and then_ increase the heat until the dissolved sugar is boiling. First, did you stir the sugar while it was simmering in the pot?”

Papyrus opened his mouth, paused, then snapped it shut with an embarrassed blush that spread across his cheekbones in a faint orange hue that was surprisingly adorable to you. “I…MIGHT HAVE MISSED THAT STEP…” Papyrus uttered in a low sort of mumble that you had to strain your ears to hear him. “I-I WAS ABOUT TO! I WAS GOING TO PUT THE STRAWBERRIES INTO THE POT, BUT THEN THE POT STARTED SMOKING…”

You fought the deep sigh that wanted to let loose and instead offered him a weak smile. “It’s alright Papyrus,” You said gently. “I’m just glad that you didn’t get hurt. So—” You lightly clapped your hands and fixed your gaze upon Papyrus. “Next time, we’ll follow the recipe _exactly_ as it’s written, okay?”

“...YES.” Papyrus agreed.

“I know that the instructions seem a little obnoxious, but they’re there for a reason. Until you get a hang of cooking, stick with the recipe, or follow someone who has more experience cooking, okay?”

“OKAY.”

“Good. Go ahead and wash your hands again, then you can put your gloves back on for this next part.” You noticed thankfully that he didn’t add the whole batch of the strawberries to the pot before burning the sugar, so the jam was still salvageable. The pot might not be, but that’s okay—you could always buy another pot. You decided to put the scorched cooking vessel in the sink to submerge in soapy water before fishing for another pot. This time you waited until your cooking assistant finished washing their hands before you went through the instructions of the recipe.

“So we’re gonna go over this first part here—” You began by measuring out the ingredients and began adding them all in the pot. You turned on the burner on a medium-low setting and began stirring the mixture continuously. “Now I’ve made this jam a thousand times, so I’ve got a few shortcuts to speed up the cooking time.” You explained. “But that doesn’t mean you get to do the same. When you’ve cooked the same thing so many times, you learn along the way what method works best for you. Cooking isn’t supposed to be really technical. It’s something that you can experiment with to make really tasty food, but a lot can go wrong if you’re not careful.”

The sugar began to dissolve along with the water and lemon juice, so you slowly increased the heat until your mixture began to boil. You kept the spoon moving slowly, eventually passing the task on to Papyrus, who took the spoon in his (now gloved) hand and began stirring at the same speed as you had. “Keep stirring like that—I’m getting a jar really quick.” You stepped off to the side and went to one of the cupboards to fetch a large jar with a lid that you can flip closed to seal it shut. You immediately went back to the stove, standing beside Papyrus to look at the jam inside the pot.

“It looks good!” You commented excitedly. “Go ahead and turn off the stove and move the pot to the cold burner. You’re gonna pour the jam inside this jar here,” You held up your hands to indicate the jar you meant. “Let me know when you’re ready.”

At his gesture, you carefully guided him with pouring the jam in the jars, instructing him to use the spoon to control the flow of the hot fruity spread, until the jar was nearly overflowing. There was just enough jam left at the bottom of the pot, and you were feeling a little hungry. You set the jar on the countertop, putting the lid loosely over the mouth before you opened a drawer, grabbing a spoon before you opened a little bread box, and grabbed two slices of bread. You then turned to Papyrus with a smile and held up the spoon. “Wanna have a taste?”

“I’D LOVE TOO!” He perked curiously at the spoon you held and watched as you scooped a generous amount of jam onto both slices of bread. You maneuvered the back of the spoon to spread the jam evenly along the surface of the bread before handing it to Papyrus. “Be careful, it’s still a little hot.” You warned him, though you didn’t hesitate to shove a corner of the jam-covered bread into your mouth.

Have you ever tasted something so utterly divine that your automatic reaction is to close your eyes? That was you. You immersed yourself in the taste, the moan of bliss purring inadvertently from your throat should have embarrassed you, but you were too busy chewing to care. You had no doubt that it was delicious (you couldn’t go wrong with bread!) but you were curious to see what Papyrus thought about the taste. You opened your eyes to check on him and discovered that, much like yourself, he too had a twin expression of bliss upon his visage. He even managed to close his eye sockets—it was _that_ good!

“It’s good, huh?” You asked him unnecessarily, but you smiled when he opened his eye sockets and beamed at you.

“IT’S DELICIOUS!” he exclaimed. “I NEVER HAD JAM THIS FRESH OR SWEET BEFORE!”

“Well I’m glad you enjoy it,” you said laughingly. “You’re the first monster ever to have tried this, so you better savor it while you can!” You were joking of course, but just in case—“If I ever sell this, I’ll be able to tell everyone that you were the first to try this jam! It’ll be so popular that you might not be able to have a jar of your own!”

You giggled at the thought—you never fancied yourself as someone to make a living off of what you cooked regularly for yourself, but the thought inspired pleasant feelings within you that brought a smile to your face. As you looked to Papyrus though, you noted that he had a look upon his face that you couldn’t quite describe. Before you could place a name for what kind of expression he wore, it was gone when he began to speak.

“THAT’S ALRIGHT HUMAN-EVE—IF THAT EVER HAPPENED, I WOULD JUST COME OVER YOUR HOUSE SO THAT WE CAN MAKE MORE JAM TOGETHER!”

You felt yourself begin to blush.

“I think I’d like that,” You said. “It’ll be like a party! We can invite people over and play music—it’ll be like our own little jam session!”

“YES, EXACTLY—WAIT A SECOND,” Papyrus narrowed his eye lights at you suspiciously. “WAS THAT A PUN?”

Taken aback, you replayed what you said in your mind a few times until it finally clicked—and then you grinned and began to laugh. “Ahaha I guess so!”

“NO! STOP THAT!” You then watched as he proceeded to stomp on the floor in indignation. “I FORBID ANY PUNS DURING OUR COOKING LESSONS!”

“Not even a little?” You teased. “What if it’s an accident?”

“WELL IF IT’S AN ACCIDENT THAT’S FINE—BUT NO MORE AFTER!”

“I’ll try my best Papyrus.”

“GOOD!” He nodded. “NOW THAT THAT’S SETTLED, WHAT ELSE IS THERE TO DO?”

You giggled a little before checking the time on your phone. “Well, it’s 7:48 right now. I still need to put the sausage and bacon in the oven to cook, but all that needs to be done is shred the potatoes and scramble some eggs.” You paused and added thoughtfully to yourself. “I might be able to make pancakes if there’s still time. But if can you wash and peel these potatoes,” You indicated the pile on the countertop by the slight tilt of your head. “Then breakfast will be done before Nana comes home.”

“LEAVE IT TO ME HUMAN-EVE!” Papyrus declared with determination. “I SHALL SHOW THESE POTATOES NO MERCY!”

* * *

The rest of the time spent cooking with Papyrus went by quickly, for the most part. Putting the meat in the oven to cook helped you save time that was better spent towards more laborious tasks: like monitoring Papyrus. You had to curb Papyrus’s enthusiasm when he began shredding the potatoes at a speed that made his arm blur, (and you made sure to watch him while he put the potatoes in the hot oil) but otherwise, everything went well! From a glance at the spread of food you made, you looked like you were about to feed an army, but with the expected guests that were coming over for breakfast, you figured the more choices that were available, the better.

You were preparing the pancake batter over another hot pan, the butter quietly sizzling atop the surface when you heard the sound of footsteps come from the stairs. You were distracted with cooking to be bothered by who had come down the stairs, but to your relief, you were greeted by the appearance of a sleepy-looking human child and their goat mother. Whether they were awakened by the sounds of cooking or the smell, you found that Toriel and Frisk stood inside the kitchen with twin expressions of sleepy awe.

“Good morning!” You greeted them with a smile while you scrapped and stirred the eggs in the pan.

“GOOD MORNING!” Papyrus echoed excitedly. He had already cooked the last of the potatoes and was getting ready to set the table (much to your immense relief, bless him). “THE HUMAN-EVE AND I MADE BREAKFAST FOR EVERYONE!”

“There’s coffee on the pot if you’d like some Toriel,” you offered. “But if you prefer tea, I can make some for you.”

“Tea would be lovely, Eve, thank you,” Toriel said with a smile. She approached the kitchen and studied the spread you prepared.

“I’ve got blueberry muffins, strawberry jam and scrambled eggs that are done,” You said over your shoulder as you slid the last of the eggs onto a bowl. “The bacon and sausage are just about done, and I’ve got pancakes coming up. Frisk, d’you want milk or juice?” You asked while you quickly snatched the kettle from the back burner and walked over to the sink to fill up the vessel.

* _They tell you they would like milk._

“Feel free to pour yourself some from the fridge,” you told them while you walked back to the stove, setting the kettle down on the burner and turning it on to start. “Toriel, do you have a certain preference for tea?”

“Something light and floral if you have anything,” Toriel said. She walked over to the stove to stand by you. “You need not fuss over me, Eve. I can make myself a cup.”

“It’s no trouble Toriel!” You already took out your favorite container of tea and shook it for emphasis. “I have chamomile tea that I made myself if you wanna try it?”

“That would be lovely, Eve, thank you.”

“No problem! The cups are in the cupboard by the sink,” you said. “Feel free to grab a mug for yourself. There’s sugar and honey on the counter and milk and heavy cream if you want to add it to your tea!”

You left Toriel to doctor her tea while you flipped pancakes from your hot pan. You heard Papyrus and Frisk converse in the dinning room while you worked. All too soon the whistle of the kettle screamed and announced that the water was ready. You quickly spooned the loose tea in the steeper (it was a cut tea cage in the shape of a bell) and poured the water in Toriel’s cup; you kept an eye on the tea while you continued to make pancakes. A few minutes passed and almost all of your batter was gone, and you took the tea steeper out of her mug and slid it towards the other woman.

“All done!” You cheered while flipping your last pancake. You did a little acrobatic act of flipping the pancake onto the pile, to which you heard a quiet round of applause. You took an exaggerated bow and grinned.

“Well now,” came a familiar voice. “Looks like I came back just in time.”

“Hey Nana!” You greeted excitedly. “Welcome home!”

You looked up to see Nana approaching the counter with bags of groceries in her arms, with several bags looped through her arms. You could see the strain it gave her from how the plastic stretched, which told you that your grandmother bought an overabundance of food. Worried, you were about to head over to take most of the bags from her when from the corner of your eye you spotted Papyrus striding towards her.

“ALLOW ME HUMAN-EVE’S GRANDMOTHER!”

He proceeded to take the bags, carefully extracting, and untangling them from her arms, until his long limbs were lined with bags. You almost laughed out loud, the image of what was happening was pretty funny to you: a tall, gangly skeleton taking all of the heavy bags from your grandmother (who was by no means weak, but even _that_ amount of weight could take a toll on her) was endearingly sweet, if a little bizarre.

And as this went on, Nana merely smiled and patted Papyrus’s cheekbone. “Thank you, dear,” she told him. “I’m sure you don’t mind helping me put this all away, now would you?”

“NOT AT ALL!” Papyrus declared confidently, his chest puffing out while a grin played unfailingly across his face. “PUTTING AWAY GROCERIES IS NO SMALL TASK FOR THE GREAT PAPYRUS!” He then began to chat amiably with your grandmother, who followed along and engaged with him in a fondly amused manner. You tuned out the conversation to finish up with your task; you moved your pile of pancakes to the counter, where the rest of the food stood waiting. You felt incredibly proud of the spread you made, and you couldn’t help but smile. As you turned around towards the refrigerator, you almost bumped into Frisk.

“Hey hun,” You greeted while opening the fridge door. “I’ve got your clothes in the dryer, so they should be almost done.” You gathered a bottle of orange juice, a jug of milk, and a block of butter in your arms before bumping the door shut with your hip. You turned to the silent child, who you could see was still teetering between wakefulness and the land of dreams (you sympathized with their plight). Setting the items on the counter, which was starting to become quite crowded, you then turned to Frisk and crouched down until you were eye level with them.

“Y’know,” You began with a thoughtfully playful note to your tone. “If you want, after breakfast we can head into town. We can get you some clothes at the thrift store until I get paid.”

To your amusement, you watched the tired expression ease away from their visage until their eyes opened wide with excitement. True to form, Frisk responded with a frantic nod of their head, their body bouncing lightly from the back of their heels like a spring as if they were ready to jump into action. You laughed softly and reached out to lightly ruffle their hair.

“I’ll let Nana and Toriel know what the plan is and see if they’re okay with it.” You said. “They’ll probably want to go over some ground rules, but don’t worry,” You gave them a wink. “I’ve got you.”

“hard not to when you’re on their _eye level_.”

Frisk turned and cried out “Sans!” before running over to crush them in a hug. You heard a rumbling chuckle and a returned greeting that you tuned out, favoring to control the sudden spike in your heartbeat. Slowly you rose up to your full height and turned so that you faced away from the skeleton who arrived in the kitchen. Rising greetings from the others chimed in from the dining room, bidding both Frisk and Sans to leave the kitchen without you. That was fine—you needed a moment to distract yourself and calm down before you did something you would regret later on.

Like throwing a spoon at Sans’s stupid face—

You closed your eyes and took a breath. _Okay. Today is going to be a good day. What happened last night was weird but it’s over and done with. Time to focus on the ‘here and now’, Eve_. After a moment, you felt calm enough to turn around and spread a smile on your face before you walked into the dining room.

* * *

Asgore arrived a moment after everyone began to settle in their seats for breakfast, followed by Undyne and Alphys. As everyone began to dig into their meal, conversations were subdued by the ambient sound of forks scraping against plates and general sounds of eating. You dug into your food with relish as a laborer that crafted the dishes spread out along the table; you always felt appreciative of the time anyone took to make food, and you found a renewed sense of pride in your cooking. With a sweeping, discreet glance along the table, you could see the pleasure and enjoyment that decorated your guest's faces.

It _almost_ made up for the fact that you had to get up at the crack of dawn worth it.

By the time you finished eating, you were relaxing as you leaned against your chair when you felt a poke at your side. You looked to see Frisk looking at you almost expectantly while sitting atop Toriel’s lap. You looked around and noted that everyone seemed nearly finished with their food. You looked at Frisk with a raised brow, to which Frisk rolled their eyes and shot you a pointed look.

* _They tell you they’re ready to go._

“Gimme a sec kid,” You murmured to them before you cleared your throat and looked at Nana, who was in the middle of a discussion with Asgore. “Hey Nana, I’m gonna head into town an’ take Frisk with me.” You then turned to Toriel. “If that’s okay with you, Toriel.”

“Of course Eve,” Toriel answered with a smile. She looked down at Frisk, who looked at her with restrained excitement. “Be good while you go out with Eve, okay? Listen to her if she tells you to do something.”

“Okay!” They responded quickly, their voice hushed with misuse.

“Don’t stay out too late little one,” Nana warned. “Tonight’s the meetin’ with the Coven.”

“I’ll be back in time, don’t worry,” You said as you got up from your seat. “Gotta make sure Frisk has decent clothes to meet the stuffy hags.” Of course not _all_ of the members were old, but most if not _all_ of the members were abrasive and took themselves way too seriously than they needed too. Nana claimed that was just due to the changing of the times. You thought it was because they had a stick up their ass that they never learned how to take out. But that was neither here nor there.

Nana merely narrowed her eyes—and you merely shot her an unsteady grin. “What? You know I’m right.”

“…just be careful you don’t say that around Edith.” Nana answered before giving your cheek a peek of her lips. “Go on, you’re losing daylight.”

Taking that as a sign of agreement, you gave out a laugh before you flounced out of the room, taking your plate and utensils with you into the kitchen. “C’mon Frisk, let’s get your clothes.”

“Okay!”

Out of habit, you made sure to quickly clean your dishes before rinsing and leaving them to dry on the rack. To your immense pleasure and surprise, you saw that Frisk did the same with their own dishes before they turned to you expectantly.

“Here’s the laundry room,” You told them as they trailed behind you to the designated area. You then began explaining where everything was, as well as the function of the washer and dryer and what products were used to help clean clothes. “Toriel strikes me as the type of mom who doesn’t mind doing your laundry, but you need to know how to do it yourself.” You explained. “This way you can help her out and you’ll have the skills to do this by yourself when you eventually live on your own when you’re older.”

Frisk nodded and took their phone out to type something.

 **Frisk** : _Will you teach me how?_

“Sure,” You said. “I can do that. Nana was the one that originally taught me how to do my own laundry, so what I know comes from her.”

You opened the dryer and fished out Frisk’s clothes before handing the bundle to them. “Go ahead and get dressed in the bathroom,” You said. “I’ll be waiting by the front door when you’re ready, okay?”

“Okay!” Frisk said before quickly shuffling out of the room.

You chuckled and gathered the remaining clothes inside the dryer before turning towards the door, only to stop short at the sight of the person standing in the doorway.

“FORGIVE ME HUMAN—EVE,” Papyrus began when you paused to listen to him speak. “BUT YOUR GRANDMOTHER WAS JUST TELLING US THAT YOU HAD, WHAT SHE CALLS A ‘MUSCLE’ CAR, AND I WAS WONDERING IF I COULD SEE IT?”

“Of course Papyrus!” You said with surprise. You shifted your bundle to capture the clothe that was slipping from your embrace before you continued. “Lemme run upstairs to put these clothes away and I’ll show you where I park my car.”

“ALLOW ME!” Papyrus offered, to which you found your clothes gently taken from your hold and put into his awaiting arms. “PLEASE LEAD THE WAY!”

“O-okay.” You said a little bemusedly. _Huh. Never had **that** happen before._ You were sure Papyrus didn’t mean to do this, but somehow, the way Papyrus asserted himself didn’t seem as invasive to you. As you walked towards the hallway, you thought about whether or not this annoyed you or not; from past experience, whenever anyone (typically men) tried doing this with you, you would become agitated immediately and seek retribution via a verbal barb. But the fact that you felt no irritation when Papyrus offered (albeit rather bluntly) to help carry your laundry, stumped you—and not just with that instance, but with helping you cook!

 _He helped Nana out with the groceries_ , You pointed out to yourself while you climbed up the stairs. _He isn’t just helping you out. He’s just a genuinely nice guy._

(People like that, you realized solemnly, are treasures that must be protected at all costs.)

You arrived in front of the door to your room and opened it, gesturing with your arm for Papyrus to walk through. “C’mon in Papyrus,” You said while stepping inside to find and grab your jacket. You didn’t bother looking to see whether he followed you or not, so you kept talking as you searched your room for your jacket. “Just leave the clothes on my bed, I’ll put them away later.”

“...W-WOWIE…”

“Something wrong?” You turned to find him looking around your room with his jaw slightly ajar with open awe. Realizing that this was the first time that he has seen your room, you let him take in the sight of your décor while you slipped on your jacket and grabbed your wallet before carefully approaching him to take the bundle of clothes from his slack hold. At your gentle nudge he released his grip so you could deposit the bundle on your bed; you then stood and shifted your stance, your arms folding across your chest as you casually watched Papyrus survey his surroundings.

He walked throughout your room with a curiosity that drove him to wander; you didn’t particularly mind, as he kept his hands to himself and didn’t make any move to touch your things. You did, however, feel mild embarrassment for the state of your room, which wasn’t any cleaner than when Toriel had come to visit you. The sudden compulsion to grab all of the items strewn across your floor and shove them in your closet or underneath your bed was running high, but you resisted the impulse.

Instead, you waited patiently for Papyrus to speak. When he finally stopped looking around, he turned his face towards you—and you could swear that his eyes _sparkled_ with delight as he gasped and approached you, taking your wrists in his hands to hold them.

“EVE! YOUR ROOM IS SO COOL!” He said excitedly. “I NEVER IMAGINED WHAT A WITCH’S ROOM WOULD LOOK LIKE, BUT YOUR ROOM EXCEEDED MY EXPECTATIONS! THIS—” He swept his arm out in a grandiose manner to encompass the surroundings. “—IS QUITE COZY! IT IS ALMOST AS COOL AS MY ROOM—YOU COULD USE A PIRATE FLAG AND MORE ACTION FIGURES, BUT THAT DOES NOT DIMINISH THE COOLNESS OF YOUR SPACE!”

You couldn’t help it—you giggled at the somewhat awkward but genuine compliment. It was certainly not one you were expecting from the taller skeleton, but you appreciated it, nevertheless. “Thank you, Papyrus,” You stated fondly. You turned your hands in to lightly hold his hands in yours to give him a gentle squeeze. “That’s really sweet of you to say. You know, you’re probably the first person to say that.” You paused. “Actually, you might be the _only_ person that’s said that about my room. I don’t invite any guys in my room, so you’re one of the few privileged enough to see what my personal space is like.”

Papyrus seemed to brighten at your words. “REALLY? WOWIE! I CAN’T BELIEVE HOW LUCKY I AM TO BE THE FIRST GUY IN YOUR ROOM—” He suddenly stopped, then looked down at you intently. “WAIT—I’M THE _ONLY_ GUY TO BE IN YOUR ROOM?”

“Well, yeah,” You said with a confused tilt of your head. “I mean, you’re the first monster guy in my room, sure, but you’re _still_ a guy, right? I don’t make a habit of inviting just _anyone_ inside my room y’know.”

“YES,” he said in answer to your question. “BUT WHY WOULDN’T YOU INVITE ANYONE IN YOUR ROOM?”

“Because it’s protected by magic.” You said simply. “I spelled the door to keep anyone I don’t trust out. And I trust you, Papyrus. Believe me,” You continued while not seeing his stunned expression. “If you had tried to come inside my room without either my permission or my trust, you wouldn’t be able to step into the doorway.”

“I…AM INCREDIBLY TOUCHED, EVE.”

You blinked at the quiet quality that his tone carried and looked to see an unreadable expression flash across his face. It was gone before you could interpret what exactly it meant, but the wide smile he gave you was nevertheless true. A gentle squeeze was returned to your hands before he slid out of your hold slowly while he gave a ‘NYEH-HEH-HEH!’ of laughter.

“I WILL TAKE GREAT CARE NOT TO LOSE YOUR TRUST HUMAN-EVE! GASP! WAIT A SECOND!” He suddenly bent close to your face, startling you by the sudden proximity and encroachment of your personal space. “DOES THIS MEAN…THAT WE’RE FRIENDS!?”

“If you’d like,” You said with suppressed laughter at his reaction. “I certainly would love to be your friend, Papyrus.”

“WOWIE,” As he straightened back to his full height, the utter wonderment in Papyrus’s tone made you double down on the urge not to laugh. You didn’t want to accidentally cause a misunderstanding and make him think you were mocking him—far from it, you were quite endeared to his attitude towards the knowledge that he could be friends with you. That he was so clearly _excited_ by being _your_ friend made you feel good. “MY FIRST SURFACE-FRIEND, WHO IS ALSO A WITCH! AND A GIRL!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Well, you’re my first monster friend that happens to be a skeleton—and a guy,” You said with a grin. “I think that’s something no one else but us has.”

“YOU’RE RIGHT!” He said amiably.

A chime suddenly went off from your phone, making you jump. “Oh crap, I forgot about Frisk!”

“DON’T WORRY MY FRIEND, FRISK WON’T BE MAD AT YOU FOR MAKING THEM WAIT!” Papyrus said with confidence that made you wonder if he knew this from personal experience. “FRISK IS A VERY PATIENCE FRIEND! PLUS I’M SURE MY BROTHER IS WITH THEM TO KEEP THEM COMPANY.”

You tried not to let your features twist to show your displeasure at the mention of Sans, though you didn’t have to worry about keeping a straight face for long. “THAT BEING SAID, LET’S NOT KEEP THEM WAITING!” No sooner than the words left Papyrus’s mouth, you were suddenly tugged forward by a hand gripping yours in a gentle but firm hold. You almost tripped over your feet by the sudden movement, yet you were saved when Papyrus held you steady with his other hand holding your arm. You were quick to adjust yourself and match his pace as you were practically dragged out of your room and led down the hallway toward the stairs.

You joined in his excitement with a laugh as you felt yourself glide down the stairs towards the front door, where there you found Frisk and Sans waiting. Not even the sight of the older skeleton could make this light-hearted feeling leave you and you found yourself smiling as you greeted them.

“Hey! Sorry for the wait, Papyrus helped me bring the rest of my clothes up to my room.” You explained with a sheepish look upon your face as you made a grab for your keys.

“I’M AFRAID I GOT DISTRACTED BY THE COOL NICKNACKS AND ROCKS THAT WERE ALL AROUND YOUR ROOM! ARE THEY YOUR PETS?” Papyrus asked you, to which you let out a laugh.

“No, those are just regular crystals I’ve found or bought. They have specific magical properties that I keep to help me—and because they’re cool.” You looked at Papyrus. “I have a crystal that’s carved to look like a human skull though. I named them Thanatos, but I call them ‘Thana’ for short.”

“you named a crystal skull after the god of death?” You heard Sans inquire, much to your surprise. You didn’t expect him to know about Greek mythology, but then again there were plenty of other things you would come to find out about monsters that were unexpected by you. You turned to acknowledge Sans by meeting his gaze and responded with a neutral tone.

“Well at the time I thought ‘Yorik’ was too cliché, so instead I chose Thana—because I thought that was cooler.”

Sans’ grin widened in amusement. “well you’re right," he drawled lazily. "it is cooler.”

The corner of your mouth twitched from the suppressed urge to frown. You didn’t like the way his smile made your chest clench—and you weren’t keen to analyze exactly _why_ , so you elected to ignore it entirely. You also didn’t want him agreeing with you, so to curb the petty irritation you felt from his response, you turned to Papyrus with a wide smile. “Thana has a twin that’s at my Nana’s shop named Hypnos—but I call him Hippie because it makes me and Nana laugh.”

“WHAT KIND OF SHOP DOES YOUR GRANDMOTHER RUN?” Papyrus asked curiously. You noted belatedly that he had yet to release your hand, though you make no attempt to release yourself from his easy grip. It was nice holding his hand.

(You were determinedly _not_ looking at the way Sans’ gaze narrowed at your connected hands. If he had a problem with you, he can bring it up with you—but you weren’t going to stop being Papyrus’s friend. Besides, your hand holding with Papyrus was purely platonic.)

“It’s a metaphysical shop,” you explained while carefully guiding your group towards the front door. “The Coven uses the shop as kind of like a checkpoint, where witches meet to resupply and exchange information, but mostly we’re a business that sells crystals, stones, tarot cards, incense, spells, and charms—y’know, stereotypical witch stuff.”

“WOWIE! I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE IT!” Papyrus exclaimed excitedly. “DO YOU SUPPOSE THAT ONCE THE MEETING WITH YOUR COVEN IS OVER, THAT WE’LL BE ABLE TO SEE THE REST OF THE TOWN?”

“I don’t know Papyrus.” You said. You were careful to keep your eyes forward to avoid any misstep from the porch and the sudden intense presence you could feel from Sans’s gaze. “If I’m being honest, I’m cautiously optimistic about how the townsfolk will react to monsters. They’re mostly good people who are neighborly and care about their community, but there are some jerks that like to think that they’re big and bad.” Your mouth twisted into a sneer. “It’s _those_ people that are who will cause the most trouble, but they’re nothing but cowards.”

“so why’re we meetin’ with your coven then? i thought y’said the townsfolk were good people.” Sans said casually that did little to betray the hidden meaning behind his question. You picked up on his subtle meaning by answering both what he asked—and what he didn’t say out loud.

“They’re _mostly_ good people. More importantly, they’re _human_ , which is already a challenge in of itself because humans are stupid.” You said matter-of-factly. “And because most humans are stupid, they’ll react to your existence with fear. Fear leads to ignorance and violence. The Coven will try to keep the fear down with knowledge—and they have the power to control what knowledge is shared because some of the members are in positions of power,” you explained. “Some elders and other members are integrated within integral places like hospitals, police stations, corporations, and even in higher levels of government. They’ll be the key to establishing a smooth transition into human society without the massive hysteria that normal humans are known for when they see something that’s not ‘normal’.”

You slowed your steps to a stop and turned towards both monsters and the silent human with a serious expression on your face. “This meeting isn’t to discuss whether you guys get to stay on the surface or not; it’s about finding a way to control the violence that will come when humans discover that monsters are real. The Coven is going to do is try to provide damage control so that there is as little violence as possible against either side. If the Coven can spin your reveal as something miraculous but palatable for them to understand, then the lives of monsters will be essentially peaceful. Or that’s my hope at least.”

There was a long stretch of silence from your group that you worried that you might have frightened them unnecessarily with your grim prediction. You looked between the three faces, trying to gauge their reactions to decide whether you should offer any assurances. Papyrus wore his frown lightly upon his face, but he didn’t seem broken by what you said, much to your relief. Frisk seemed to hold a grim sort of determination that you found yourself fighting back a smile—it was the kind of look that said that despite the obstacles that would come and what they would all encounter, they were prepared to fight with all they had against their adversaries.

Sans kept a carefully blank expression upon his face that you couldn’t quite read. You weren’t sure if he was angry or not, and you couldn’t quite place what his feelings were based on what you told them all. Overall, no one was freaking out over your prediction, so you called that a success on your part. Still, you felt you had one more thing to say to them. “Guys, even if humans aren’t accepting of you guys at first, the Coven will ensure that you guys are kept safe until we can wear them down into accepting you. Besides,” You added with a faint amount of cheer. “With Frisk as your Ambassador, it will be hard for idiots to try to spin monsters as something to be feared.”

 _And if any idiots try anything, they’ll get a visit from me_.

You kept that thought to yourself. The promise you made with Toriel echoed within your mind, prompting you to take measures to keep Frisk out of the line of fire from the more…volatile members of society. You would make sure that they were protected from whatever sought to harm them.

“Don’t worry—everything’s going to be okay,” You said solemnly. You took a deep breath, feeling the air charged with magic. You felt it fill your lungs and quickly spread throughout your bloodstream until you even felt your cells were charged with the intent of your magic. You weren't sure where this promise came from, or why it was so important for you to speak it into existence. But you could feel something inside of you was compelling you to say the words; that it wasn't just an inherent desire for you to do good, but to ensure that these people have the best life they deserve.“I promise,” you spoke the vow tasting like magic, like power, like a manifestation. “That I will do everything I can to make sure you guys are safe, and that you and all monsters live the lives you deserve to have on the surface…”

“Eve…?” Frisk whispered, their eyes wide as your promise gathered power, charging the air with an electric current that lifted the hair from yours and their head. You saw from the corner of your eye that they were reaching for the wrist where your hand rested within Papyrus’s hand still, their tiny hand tugging at the sleeve of your jacket. At the same time, you saw movement from Sans reach out to try and intercept—though whether he was trying to stop Frisk or to free the grip Papyrus had over your hand, you weren’t entirely sure. But as this went on, the flavor of your magic was thick on your tongue and as the last of your vow flowed past your lips in a smooth finale, it echoed out as surely as a condemnation.

“—on my life,” You swore. “I make this oath. _Thus I have said, so let it be_.”

The sound of the sky cracking made all of you jump before the following wave of magic reverberated out from your soul, echoing like a sonic wave throughout the surrounding land and beyond. That was all that you were conscious of before you felt your eyelids slide shut. When you opened them again, you were lying down, while Frisk, Sans, and Papyrus were looking down at you with varying expressions that ranged from concern, panic, and fear.

You frowned at their reaction. “What?”

“y’okay there kid?” Sans asked you while eyeing you like you were a bomb that was about to go off.

“...yes?” You answered slowly. “Just wondering why I’m lying down on the ground is all—did I faint?”

“YES! IT WAS VERY ALARMING!” Papyrus replied fretfully. “SANS WAS ABOUT TO GO GET YOUR GRANDMOTHER WHEN YOU WOKE UP. FRISK SUGGESTED THAT WE WAIT UNTIL YOU WOKE UP BEFORE WE FETCHED HER.”

“…thanks, Frisk.” You groaned while sitting up carefully. Thankfully, no one tried to stop you. You took stock of your body to see if anything hurt or if you were feeling numb anywhere—thankfully, you only suffered from a major drain of magic and felt ravenous from hunger, but it was nothing severe. “I’m fine, just need to catch my breath before we get going into town.”

“uh, y’sure you wanna do that?” You would have appreciated the concern that came from Sans if you weren’t so drained. “whatever you just did took out nearly all of your HP—and here I thought I saved my best for last.” You were pretty sure you weren’t meant to hear that last part with how low he murmured it, but you answered him regardless.

“I promised to take Frisk out into town, and that’s exactly what I’m gonna do.” You said stubbornly. “I just need a moment to gather my bearings…and maybe a snack, but I think I have something in my glove compartment, but that’s beside the point—”

“Eve, what _did_ you do exactly?” Frisk asked you. Their expression was caught between awe and worry, making guilt twist you and make your nerves flutter uncomfortably. No one should have that ability—and the fact that this kid could make you feel this overwhelming sense of remorse was just not _fair_. No one but your Nana had the ability to make you fidget, but the question that Frisk directed to you made you feel like you were about to be scolded like a naughty child. Hell.

“To put it simply: I made a promise that I powered with my magic.” You shrugged your shoulders as nonchalantly as you could to offset the ominous meaning behind your words. “It’s kinda like what Nana did when you guys first met her, only the context and spell is a bit different.”

(You hoped that this explanation would placate them enough to assure them that you were alright and that your accidental vow wouldn’t affect them. Hah—you should have known better.)

“YOUR SPELL DIDN’T FEEL THE SAME AS WHAT YOUR GRANDMOTHER DID THOUGH.” Papyrus pointed out, much to your dismay. “IT SOUNDED AS IF YOU WERE MAKING A SERIOUS VOW—YOU EVEN MENTION YOUR LIFE WAS INVOLVED! I DO NOT WISH FOR YOUR LIFE TO BE PUT IN DANGER OVER A PROMISE, EVE!”

“paps is right Eve,” Sans said, their gaze narrowed on your face. “no promise is worth possibly losing your life over. is there a way to reverse or break this spell?”

“Guys, really,” you began exasperatingly. “It’s not that big of a deal—the spell is way too vague and didn’t have enough magic to make it into a true concrete spell. If it was, I would have been knocked out immediately after it was released, and all of my magic would have been completely gone.”

“Y-you…should still tell Nana…” Frisk said firmly. The both of you stared at each other, both of your gazes boring into each other as if the force of your own will could match the intensity of one stubborn child’s determination. Any lesser person would have cowed under your look—you had plenty of practice scaring the shit out people with your resting bitch face after all—but it was clear to you that Frisk didn’t feel intimidated by your glare any more than you were by theirs.

You sighed, conceding defeat with a weary shake of your head and a quirk of your mouth. “I will.” You promised as you shifted your body around to stand up. “ _After_ we go into town.”

“…okay.” Frisk relented with a nod.

Satisfied that they wouldn’t make a fuss over you anymore, you shifted your legs so that they were arranged under your body before you made an effort to stand. You felt completely weak and you made a visible effort to lift yourself up by your own strength. Embarrassed, you grunted and tried finding something to hold onto to hoist yourself up when you were suddenly scooped up off the ground. Yelping you flailed a little as you swung your head around to find Papyrus looking at you with a concerned frown.

“MY FRIEND, ALLOW ME TO HELP YOU!” He gave you no time to protest and simply cradled you against his chest and began to walk towards the driveway. “DON’T BE AFRAID TO ASK FOR HELP!” He admonished you as he frowned at you. You could only mumble your assent while pulling the drawstring of your hoodie tighter. “WHAT WAS THAT YOU SAID?” He asked, forcing you to repeat what you tried to keep to yourself.

“I said, ‘Sorry that you have to carry me’.” You said grumpily. “I’m sure I’m not exactly lightweight.”

“WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? YOU’RE NOT HEAVY AT ALL! IN FACT, I CAN CARRY YOU WITH ONLY ONE HAND WITHOUT BREAKING A SWEAT!” As if to demonstrate this, he shifted your body around until his ulna and radius were tucked underneath your thighs, angling you so that you were leaning against his collarbone while your arms were wrapped around his neck. He waited until you adjusted to the change in elevation before he continued walking. “SEE? THIS IS NOTHING FOR THE GREAT PAPYRUS!”

“My hero,” You teased lightly, feeling grateful that he didn’t make any comment about your apparent weakness. “You sure know how to make a girl feel special.”

* _They ask if you’re okay._

“I’m okay Frisk,” You responded to their wordless inquiry while you looked down to see their anxious expression. Their hand reached up to tug the end of your jacket, which was the only part of you that they could reach. You felt touched by their concern and sought to alleviate their unease by offering them a wane smile and an extension of your hand to rest atop their head.

“Hey,” You called to them softly. “Don’t worry hun, this happens a lot whenever I use too much magic at once. I just need to eat something and then I’ll be fine.”

“y’said that you had a snack in your car, right?”

Your gaze shifted to meet Sans’s solemn stare. “Yeah, it’s over there—” You suddenly pointed to your red muscle car, which was parked next to your grandmother’s junker truck. You brought out your keys and clicked the alarm to unlock it and deactivate the security alarm. “It’ll be in a compartment on the passenger side.”

“EVE!” You heard Papyrus gasp. “IS THIS YOUR CAR?”

“Yep,” you said with a proud grin. “She’s my baby. You like it?”

“DO I LIKE IT? I LOVE IT! IN FACT, I’M QUITE JEALOUS! I ALWAYS WANTED MY OWN CAR!” The wistful longing in his tone made you bite your lip—you didn’t want to laugh at him, but the way his expression twisted into one of dejection made you think of a whimpering puppy. It was pathetically adorable.

“Cheer up Papyrus,” You encouraged while giving his cheek a comforting pat. “If you want, I can help you find your dream car and then teach you how to drive.”

“REALLY?! YOU MEAN IT EVE!?”

“Yeah, sure!” You didn’t see the harm in that at least. “I don’t know when exactly, but the opportunity arises, we’ll go out to find you the perfect car.”

You were suddenly squeezed so tight that a small sound escaped past your lips, as the air was pressed out of your chest like a plastic squeak toy. You were also pretty sure that a few stubborn vertebrae were popped accidentally—never mind that you were _very_ conscious of the fact that your chest was dangerously close to Papyrus’s vision. You wore enough layers that your chest was somewhat indistinguishable, but it nevertheless made you viscerally aware of how close that part of your body was.

“THANK YOU, EVE!” He exclaimed before pulling away to shoot you a happy grin. “I’M SO HAPPY TO HAVE YOU AS MY FRIEND!”

“M-me too, Papyrus.” You wheezed out before patting his pauldrons to gain his attention. “Um, I think I’m good to stand on my own. You can let me down now.”

“OH! Y-YES, OF COURSE! NYEH-HEH-HEH!” Immediately he stopped beside the driver's side of your car before he carefully set you down on your feet. You were still hanging onto him, your hands clutching his pauldrons while your body slid slowly down until you felt the ground beneath your feet. This forced him to bend his body, hovering over you so that if you fell, he could quickly catch you, if by the way, his hands clasped the sides of your waist. You felt grateful for how attentive Papyrus was being—and also a little embarrassed.

“Papyrus,” you said with a laugh. “I promise I’m not gonna fall. You can let go.”

“I KNOW YOU WON’T FALL EVE,” He said, and you were struck speechless by his following statement. “BECAUSE I WILL CATCH YOU IF YOU FALL.”

You blushed. Frantically you ducked your head so that your hair could fall over your face in an attempt to hide behind so that you could process what you were feeling. Unfortunately, this action brought your vision to the sight of Sans and Frisk watching you—and if you weren’t feeling the heat of embarrassment on your skin before, you were _definitely_ feeling it now. In fact, you were pretty sure that your face was as red as a rose, which would have been flattering if you didn’t feel like dying on the spot.

_Oh my god!_

“That’s okay! I promise I won’t fall!” You insisted while fighting to keep the panic out of your voice—and failing. “Frisk, get in the car!” You yelped out, desperately wishing this awkward feeling to leave you. You turned your body around, breaking free of his grip to yank your car door open before throwing yourself inside. “Let’s go!” _Like right now—right this second in fact!! Please!!!_

“Seat belt on!” You said, ignoring the smug grin that was plastered on the child’s face. Oh god, they were _enjoying_ watching you squirm, the little shit. “Hand me that granola bar please.”

Wordlessly they did as you asked while you focused on buckling yourself in, refusing to make any eye contact with anyone until you were ready. When the foil-wrapped bar was thrust in front of you, you quickly snatched it out of their hands and tore the wrapper off with your teeth before shoving a third of the bar in your mouth, quickly chewing the sweet by dry sustenance. You made quick work of devouring the granola bar before you finally turned towards where Papyrus and Sans stood just a few feet from your door.

“We’ll be back in a few hours,” You said calmly as if you didn’t panic just a moment ago and embarrassed yourself. “You have my number if you guys need to contact me.”

“sure thing,” Sans said with undisguised amusement. Bastard. “oh, by the way, Toriel wanted me to hand you this—” He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and stepped forward to hand it to you. “—it’s the list of ingredients for the pie she wanted to make.”

“Thanks,” you said before taking the paper from him and putting it inside your jacket pocket. “I’ll see you guys later.”

“GOODBYE FRISK! GOODBYE EVE! DRIVE SAFELY!” Papyrus called out, waving his arms frantically while started the car. You gave the brothers a small wave before looking over your seat while you backed out of the driveway. You maneuvered your car so that it faced the road before you pressed down gently on the gas pedal, revving your engine playfully before accelerating forward, following the dirt path away from the cottage and into the trees that protected your home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus: *exists*  
> Reader/Eve: *wonders how such a sweet, kind, caring, and genuinely nice person could ever exist and also, why do i suddenly feel like my heart is beating to the point that i've been running at top speed?*
> 
> :^) _heh_.
> 
> I can _legitimately_ see Papyrus being the perfect house guest, but also subscribe to him being just a genuinely helpful person which feeds my fantasy of having a partner that is willing to do the chores that I hate doing. 
> 
> (Note: I am already married & my partner does this uwu)

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what y'all think! :3  
> I also have [tumblr](http://maidenstage.tumblr.com/) & [twitter](http://twitter.com/maidenstage/), feel free to come check it out!


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